The Country Road
by RejaNuha
Summary: A young woman is found broken and beaten along a country road. Will the 'Jew Hunter' help her enact revenge on her attackers? Will the Basterds? Or will she have to work alone? Mystery and action included.Landa/OC.
1. Meeting Landa

**REPOSTED STORY/CHAPTER. Explanation in profile.**

**I've kept some of the original author's notes and added new ones.**

**A/N: ****Readers, please be informed that I hold nothing against the Jewish culture. Things are not always what they seem. ****If you don't like it, don't read it. I knew I'd have a lot of angry reviewers at the start. That's good. Sometimes a controversial piece that gets under the reader's skin is what an audience needs. What is the point of reading something that does not make you feel or think? If you are offended or angry, then I've done my job by provoking something.**

Chapter 1- Meeting Landa

My own blood was tangled in my hair turning it dark and red. It was matted against my skull and neck. My eyes felt tired and only remained half open during my trek down the sun-beaten country road. Sweat gathered along my jaw line and upon my chest which at the time was more exposed than to my liking. My dress was torn and stained. It barely covered and hung like rags onto my hungry frame. The blood and dirt was also splattered down my legs, dried in a stream along my inner thighs, having flown from a more private disclosure.

It was obvious what had been done.

I had been dragging my feet upon the dirt road for three days and the French countryside remained wild and uncivilized. There was not a soul in sight-thanks to the Nazis no doubt. To think that I used to hate the Nazis and their unfair treatment of the Jewish people… How quickly someone's beliefs can change. It used to be that I could not go anywhere without seeing their soldiers and officers riding around and I wanted nothing to do with them. Nazis were evil for no reason which just made them all the more evil.

But I wanted revenge. I wanted to get those bastards for what they did to me. I wanted them dead before they could find me again. They said they would. I could not have been more thankful to see a puff of smoke in the distance, indicating that an automobile was on its way. And for the first time in my life, I was beyond relief to see Nazi vehicles headed my direction.

I studied my feet, caked in mud. I looked down at the hand which they might shake and saw blood upon my knuckles and my middle finger swollen from a break. I pulled my dress tighter in an attempt to cover more. I don't think it helped. The Nazi cars came closer and suddenly the fear of them not stopping overwhelmed me. What if they didn't realize I was a fellow German? What if they drove right past me? I had to make them stop. But how?

I thought about lying in the middle of the road but they would probably just consider me dead and run right over me. I'd seen them do it before, even knowing that those they ran over were still alive. If I just stood by and waved they would probably blow dust in my face as they continued on their way- mistaking me for a worthless peasant that they could step on. I'd seen them do that too. If I just stood in the middle of the road, they would shoot me. And yes, I've seen them do that. The fact is, I spent so much time trying to avoid Nazis I truly had no idea how to respectfully gain their attention. If that could be done at all, I hadn't seen that it could.

Their automobiles were closing the distance between us and I knew I had to think of something fast. I quickly unbuttoned what was left of my dress and stood in the middle of the street. As they approached, I opened my dress wide to reveal what had been etched into my stomach. They never told me what it said and I couldn't see beyond the dirt to read it but it was all I had.

The cars seemed to speed up and just when I thought all hope was lost I heard an officer yell, "HALT!" All the vehicles came to a dusty stop. I felt tears prick my lower lids. I'm not sure whether it was out of fear, happiness or pain but when I saw a Nazi uniform step out of the passenger side of the first vehicle I burst into tears.

He regarded me temporarily then signaled for the other officers to come forward and look. They did so in silence. They did not laugh as I had expected. They were utterly silent.

"Please, help me," I said.

The first man to step forward wore a colonel's uniform. He kept his eyes locked with mine and extended his hand. I slowly lifted my hand into his and he studied my broken finger.

"Colonel Hans Landa," he said. "But then you should know that since it is written on your stomach."

I looked up at him, teary-eyed and confused. I think he noticed. "Let me guess," he continued. "You were taken by a group of Americans that call themselves the 'Inglourious Basterds' and they let you go like this so you could spread fear into the hearts of all Nazi soldiers." I scrunched my forehead in further confusion as he went on to say, "And they carved my name into your stomach so that would ensure that you were taken to me. Am I correct so far?"

"No," I said softly.

"Which part?" asked the colonel.

"All of it," I said.

This time he wrinkled his brow in thought. He paused for a moment then gestured towards the cars. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like you to accompany us back into our vehicles," he said. "Rest assured you will be taken to one of our doctors, Miss…?"

"Von Braun," I said. "Ada Von Braun."

The colonel smiled but it did not reach his eyes. "After you, Miss Von Braun," he said and escorted me into the backseat of his car. The other soldiers loaded their vehicles and Colonel Landa slid in next to me, shutting the door behind him. I wrapped my dress around myself as the ignition started and they continued on their path down the country road.

**New A/N: ****When I first started this story the film was still in theaters, there were only 2 other IB fics and none were for our dear Hans. I see we have grown in number and I love this! I'm sorry I had to delete the original posting but I look forward to the new material and continuing with all of you :)**


	2. Examination pt 1

**REPOSTED CHAPTER**

**A/N: Ada von Braun is in NO WAY related to Eva Braun. **

Chapter 2- Examination pt. 1

This was the 'Jew Hunter?' He seemed so normal. He was well spoken, clean-cut, smart and well-mannered. He seemed like everything a good guy should be but perhaps that's what made him the perfect monster- he didn't look or act the part. To the unsuspecting rodent, the hospitable hawk seems like such a nice guy…

I felt it necessary to keep my guard up despite the fact that I should have no reason to fear this man. I did fear him though. Sitting next to him in silence as we both studied one another was almost as terrifying as the last two weeks had been. It may sound silly but there was something in his eyes as he studied me—something pure and completely focused. Solid. Unyeilding.

It was scary how honest and sincere he was when he spoke. I expected the infamous Hans Landa to at least look the part of the beast.

"Ada," he started. "May I call you Ada?"

I nodded.

"Ada, such a beautiful name it would be a shame not to use it," he said with a smile. "Tell me, do you know who I am?"

"Colonel Hans Landa," I said quietly.

"Have you heard anything about me?"

"You are an SS officer known as the 'Jew Hunter.'

"And why do you think I was given that nickname?" he asked, still smiling.

"You hunt down those of the Jewish culture and kill them," I said.

"Very good," he said happily, seemingly satisfied. "Of course I cannot control what the public chooses to call me but I imagine that I must be pretty good at it if that has become my title, no?"

"I'm not Jewish if that's what you're getting at," I said.

"Dear girl," he said with a curious look on his face. "Why would I have any reason to think that you were Jewish?"

I shrugged.

"Should I have a reason to believe that you are Jewish?" he asked.

"No."

"Well there must be some reason that you fear I might," he said.

"I've heard stories about you."

"Ah," he said with a nod of the head. "So you should know precisely who I am and what I do."

"Yes."

"However, that still does not explain your fear," he said. "Please tell me what you've heard of me."

_Egotistical. Praise him and he will be kind_. "I have heard that you are as wise and cunning as you are cruel." _That wasn't all praise_…

His expression remained unreadable. "Cruel to everyone?" he asked.

"I'm sorry. I've only heard stories of your treatment of the Jewish people."

"Stories of fear," he said. "Yes, those stories fail to highlight my charm. I see the reasoning for your fear, Ada, but I need you to trust me if you want me to help you. If you fear me, how can I examine you?"

I wrinkled my brow. "I thought I was being taken to a doctor to be examined."

"You are," he reassured me. "But seeing as how none of your injuries are life threatening, I am going to examine you first. As a detective, I wouldn't want the doctor to unknowingly damage any evidence," he said with a smile.

"Damage? Am I not damaged enough?"

"Precisely. Only an examination can tell," he said as the car came to a stop.

I looked out of my window to discover that we had arrived in a small town - a campsite for the soldiers. There were Nazi vehicles on every corner and soldiers wandering in and out of the houses. I looked back towards the colonel only to find that he had exited the car and was currently taking off his trench coat. He looked in at me and gestured for me to join him. I took his offered hand and he helped me step out of the car onto a gravel road.

"Here," he said and draped his trench coat over my shoulders. "That way you won't stand out so much," he said with a smile, and then shut the car door behind us.

It was embarrassing really. There were soldiers everywhere. At first they paid no mind. What's another Nazi? All it took was one person to notice and suddenly it felt like everyone knew what had happened to me. Some whispered, others pointed and all of them stared. It hadn't been long since I had felt this vulnerable but I still loathed the feeling.

I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders and guide me towards a larger vehicle. Our driver, whose name I learned was Hermann, climbed into the driver's seat of the new vehicle. The colonel smiled at me and lowered the gate on the back end of the vehicle.

"Another car ride?" I asked, remembering the tension and fear from the last one.

"Unless you'd rather walk," said Colonel Landa. "I don't recommend it in your condition."

I nodded and he helped me up into the bed of the truck. He climbed in behind me and closed the gate, then lowered the canvas at the top to shut out the curious eyes. It was not long before I felt the truck begin to move beneath my feet. I heard the gravel crunch and knew we were on our way.

"Please, sit," said the colonel as he gestured towards a bench on the side.

I obliged and he kneeled before me, removing his gloves.

"I'm going to start with your feet," he said and gently grabbed one of my muddied heels. He lifted it and cocked it slightly to one side, examining it closely. His touch was surprisingly gentle. He examined each toe, down to the very nail, made me bend, flex and rotate my ankle and wiggle every toe. He nodded in satisfaction as I complied. Lastly, he trailed a single finger down my arch. I flinched and let out a gasp. He looked up at me with a smile and let that foot rest on the floor. He examined the other foot in much the same way. "I'll try not to tickle you this time," he said.

From my feet, he moved up my calves and halfway up my thighs. It was then he asked me to remove his trench coat so that he could examine me further. I hesitated.

"Ada," he said as he placed both of his hands on either side of where I was sitting. "Do you wish for me to help you?"

"Yes," I said quietly.

"Then you need to trust me," he said. "Please remove the coat until I am finished. Then you may put it back on if you wish."

I uncrossed my arms and let the coat hang open then slid each arm out slowly. He smiled then went back to his examination. He placed a hand between my knees and instinctively my legs snapped closed.

"Ada," he warned. "The sooner we get this part over with, the sooner you can stop thinking about it. There is no use putting off the inevitable."

My legs remained tight.

"It's about an hour ride into the city," he said. "Do you wish to sit like this the whole time?"

I sighed, closed my eyes and tried my best to relax my legs. As soon as he felt my muscles loosen, he gently pried my knees apart and pushed my dress up. I closed my eyes and turned my head as I tried my best to relax. How much more embarrassing can things get? I was being examined inside and out by an SS officer who was renowned for his cruelty and I had only met him twenty minutes prior.

Though I knew my opinion of him was ever changing, I wasn't sure if I was beginning to trust him or beginning to hate him. Either way, I suppose I was stuck with him for the time being.

"Do you know that you have cuts down here?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," I said looking at him. My eyes ventured down to my thighs and I gasped at what I saw. There were large black and blue marks on the inside of each thigh. "Is that all bruising?" I asked in horror.

"Fortunately, those black marks look a lot worse than they are," he said. "Some of it is bruising and the rest, believe it or not, is the result of a pulled groin muscle." He pushed my knees back together and started checking my outer thighs. "I imagine it hurts quite a bit…not just to walk but even sitting?"

I nodded and found myself involuntarily flinching at every bump in the road.

"Yet you haven't complained once of the pain that I'm sure you're in with marks like these. I'm impressed," he said. "You have a strong will. That's good."

"Thank you," I said quietly and watched as he continued his examination. I heaved a sigh of relief. The worst part was over.

"Are these cigarette burns?" he asked, rubbing over a spot on the back of my left thigh.

"Yes," I said. "There should be seven."

"You counted them?" he asked, seemingly surprised.

"They were very painful," I said. "I remember each one."

He nodded and pulled my dress back down. Taking a seat beside me, he raised my right hand and began to roll up the sleeve of my dress. Holding my hand, he used his other to massage from my shoulder to my elbow to check for bruises. I flinched a few times which told him all he needed to know- there were bruises.

He flipped my arm over and tried to find scrapes through all the muck. Next were my fingers. When he touched my middle finger, the gentle throb that had been there shot up through my arm like a bullet. I cried out in pain and pulled my arm back, consequently hitting my elbow on the back of the seat.

I grabbed my elbow and hunched forward, crying. Colonel Landa rested a hand on my back and guided me to an upright position. I looked at him with tears in my eyes.

"Forgive me," he said. "That was not my intention. Is this your only broken finger?" he asked, glancing at my other hand.

I nodded as he started examining my head and neck. The last thing he chose to inspect was the engraving on my stomach.

"Does it really say your name?" I asked as he stood and prompted me to lie down.

He nodded and unbuttoned my dress just over the stomach. "These cuts are deep. You are very lucky it is not infected," he said. "Does it hurt when I touch it?" he asked and proceeded to press around the wounds.

"Yes. It is still tender to the touch."

He frowned and sighed. "Col. Hans Landa's Whore."

I gasped. "Whore?" I asked. "It says 'whore'?"

"I'm afraid so," he said and buttoned my dress. "That'll do for now." He offered his hand and pulled me back up to a sitting position. Taking his seat next to me, he told me I could put his coat back on if I wished. I did so and what remained of the ride into the city was spent in silence—myself appalled and his expression unreadable.

Luckily, it wasn't too long before the truck halted and I could hear the hustle and bustle of the busy streets. Colonel Landa stood and offered his hand. I took it with barely a thought as to what I was doing and followed him to the gate. He raised the canvas and Hermann was there to lower the gate. They helped me down first, then the Colonel jumped down and we continued straight into the doors of a tall building.

It was all so surreal. I wasn't sure what to believe. Part of me thought that this was all some twisted dream. Another part of me thought I died and hadn't realized it yet. Lost in my thoughts, I paid no attention to the people we passed or the doors we passed through.

There was a high pitched ringing tone echoing in my ears and I thought for certain that I would pass out without something to drink or eat. My throat had gone completely dry. My voice was little more than a croak. My lips were cracked and I could taste the blood on my tongue. My heart was pounding in my chest and all I could do was just let myself be guided by this complete stranger who seemed to have become a bit possessive of me.

Apparently I was his 'whore,' as they had written so delicately…

I was broken from my reverie by the colonel himself as he escorted me into an examination room and sat me upon a table. He removed his hat and gloves and sat across the small room in an arm chair. I studied his expressions as we both waited for the doctor to enter.


	3. Examination pt 2

**REPOSTED CHAPTER**

**New A/N: Sorry for the slow uploads but I am going through every chapter and fixing typographical errors. Thinking about adding a small scene or two in future chapters- not sure yet.**

Chapter 3- Examination pt. 2

It wasn't long before a knock sounded at the door. A larger man entered, sporting a Nazi uniform. His hair was kempt and grey, showing his age and he carried a clipboard under his left arm.

Colonel Landa stood and greeted the man. His name was Doctor Roderick Kirsch.

"Oh, dear," said the doctor as he spotted me on the table. "What do we have here?"

"She needs to be inspected further regarding her injuries," said Colonel Landa. "She has a broken finger on her right hand that needs bandaged, several cuts and incisions that need cleaned and possibly stitched, and she needs to be checked internally."

"Internally?" asked the doctor.

The colonel nodded. "Rape," he whispered to the doctor.

Doctor Kirsch looked at me wide-eyed and said, "I see. We'll save that part for last. First, let me have a look at that finger." He walked over to the counter and set down his clipboard. He pulled a pair of glasses out of his pocket and placed them on his nose, then proceeded to flip through the pages on his board. Finding a clean one, he pulled a pen from his pocket and placed it upon the board.

Colonel Landa stood in front of me, content on watching at the time. I looked at him as the doctor approached me and he just looked back with those eyes…still so solid and focused—on what I still wasn't sure. He seemed to realize that I was staring at him and grinned subtly. His lips rising higher on the left side of his face, his grin was crooked and brought little comfort. But it did bring comfort.

Doctor Kirsch lifted my hand and flipped it back and forth. "I'm going to need to clean some of this blood off if I'm going to see anything," he said. He walked back over to the counter and pulled a large, white washing bowl out of the top cabinet. Placing it in the sink, he turned the faucet handles and began to adjust the temperature. As the bowl filled, he grabbed a wash cloth from one of the bottom cabinets and studied me from afar.

I watched as he dipped the cloth into the bowl, lifted it out of the sink and carried it over to where I was sitting. He smiled softly at me as he twisted the cloth in his hands and let the water trickle back into the basin. Slowly he began washing the blood and muck off of my hand in light strokes. He was particularly careful when he cleaned my middle finger.

I looked up at the colonel who was still watching intently. Suddenly something changed in his expression. It was barely noticeable but it was there as he looked at the doctor. I followed his eyes and saw that the doctor had stopped cleaning my hand and was instead looking at my fingernails curiously. His face straightened and he looked up at me.

"Are you aware that you have some skin under your fingernails?" the doctor asked.

"Yes," I said. "I scratched one of my attackers."

"Attackers?" asked the doctor. "There was more than one?"

I looked up at the colonel.

"Is that really important now, Roderick? We don't need the girl to relive her nightmare," said Colonel Landa. "Please," he continued. "Dress her wounds and I will let you get back to work."

The doctor nodded and continued to clean my hand before wrapping my finger. "I'll give you pain medication for that before you leave," said Doctor Kirsch. "Don't let me forget."

"Don't worry," I said.

"I will also give you some antibiotics to help your wounds recover and get rid of any infection that might have started," he said and continued his inspection. "May you remove that coat please?" He was much quicker than the colonel. The doctor was thorough though as he looked inside my ears and mouth, listened to my heartbeat and checked my reflexes. With all of that it almost seemed like a normal visit that is until he discovered the cigarette burns.

He rubbed some petroleum jelly on the burns and stated that infection was starting to spread. "The antibiotics should take care of that," he said. "I'll make sure to give you a strong dose. The trick is that you are petite and I don't wish to give you more medication than what you need. These things don't happen often. Things like this that are unfortunately brought upon people of your size usually result in their death. Honestly," said Doctor Kirsch as he looked over at Colonel Landa, "I have not seen all of her injuries yet but in regards to the bruises, burns and breaks, she is lucky to be alive. Wouldn't you say?"

The colonel nodded. "Very lucky I found her," he said and raised the left side of his mouth again.

"I have a bit of fight left inside," I said. This time I gave the small hint of a smile back to Colonel Landa.

"That's good," said the doctor. "Now I think it's time we get to the worst. I need you to lie down."

I watched the colonel as he moved behind me. "It's ok," he said as he took each of my hands in his and gently pulled me back. He looked down at me and continued, "He needs to see if you are injured internally. Feel free to squeeze my hands if it hurts."

Doctor Kirsch walked to the other side of the room and rolled a lamp towards me. He asked me to part my legs and bend my knees slightly. Colonel Landa smiled down at me and gave my hands a light squeeze. I complied with the doctor's orders.

He turned the light on and said it was to keep me warm… then I heard the clanking of metal.

"Try to relax," said the doctor. "You have a lot of bruising down here but I need to check inside." I heard him stand and he moved to where I could see him. "Do you see this?" he said, holding up a large sort of metal clip.

I nodded.

"I need to insert this inside of you, alright? It is metal so it might be a bit cold but I need you to try not to clamp up on me," he said. "Then I'm going to push this side together and it is going to help open you up a bit so I can see. I promise I'll make it quick. I just need to assess the damage."

I nodded then looked back up at the colonel. I was terrified. Colonel Landa gave my hands another light squeeze and I swallowed hard as I felt the cold metal slide inside of me. I tensed up and closed my eyes. Letting out a breath of air I hadn't realized I was holding, I squeezed the colonel's hands as hard as possible. I felt the clamp open a bit and whimpered as tears formed under my lids. Suddenly, as soon as it happened it was over and I heaved a sigh of relief as the metal slid out and I heard the light click off.

"You may sit up now," Doctor Kirsch said to me. "You have been sliced badly, inside."

"Is there anything that can be done?" asked the colonel.

"Unfortunately, all I can do is let the medication do its work," he said standing. The doctor moved over to the counter and jotted a few notes on his board. "I will be right back with some medicine.

"Wait," said Colonel Landa. "There is one more," he said gesturing to my stomach. "I did not see any signs of infection but regardless I think it still needs a professional opinion." The colonel stepped in front of me and placed a hand on my shoulder to prompt me to lie down again. He opened my dress, just over the stomach and stepped out of the way.

Doctor Kirsch approached with caution and his mouth dropped open at the sight of my stomach. I tried to avoid his eyes as he studied me. The colonel remained silent.

"Well," the doctor started. "I certainly don't see any infection but I'm afraid it is not fresh enough for stitches. How old is this?"

"About ten days or so," I whispered.

"Do not pick at the scabs," he said. "It will only make it more noticeable as it heals. Let the medication do its work. It is deep though. It will most likely be permanent." He looked at the colonel and said, "I'm sorry. Keep it clean. I shall go fetch your medicines." The doctor nodded at Colonel Landa as he stepped through the door.

Landa waited until the doctor was out of sight then walked with purpose to the counter, where the clipboard lay. I sat up and buttoned my dress, all the while watching his eyes scan the doctor's notes. After a few brief seconds, he stepped away and helped me down from the table.

"Ada," he said. "Do you have any relatives or close friends that I should notify of your condition?"

"No," I said. "My mother died in childbirth and we moved from Germany to France about six months ago."

"We?"

"My brother and father," I said. "They were both soldiers in the German army."

The colonel's eyes sparkled with interest. "Von Braun sounded familiar but it is a popular German surname. I don't believe I knew them."

"It isn't likely," I said. "They were killed not too long after we were stationed here."

Colonel Landa looked at me with concern. "I'm sorry. How did they die?"

"My father's head was smashed in with blunt force, it seemed. My brother was shot and his scalp was removed."

"And you are certain your attackers weren't American?" he asked.

"Hans," I blurted, growing impatient with his insistence that I didn't know what I was talking about. "I've heard of the 'Inglourious Basterds,' and I understand that is who killed my father and brother but they did not attack me."

He sighed. "I suppose it wouldn't make sense," he said. "I haven't known them to attack women unless, perhaps they saw you as a threat."

"Me?" I asked. "A threat? Have you looked at me at all?"

He chuckled at this. "You said it yourself—you have fight inside. I still have further questions I wish to ask you. I want to hear everything," he said. "But first I'm certain you are hungry."

I nodded.

"I would offer to take you to your home but should something happen to you again then my evidence is gone," he said.

"How romantic," I said. "That's what every girl longs to hear. 'You are a piece of evidence.'"

Colonel Landa smiled.

"Why do you care so much?" I asked.

"Someone carved my name into your stomach. I want to know who and I want to know why," he said. "I'm a curious man, you must forgive me."

Doctor Kirsch entered the room again and handed bottles of medication to the colonel. The antibiotics were to be injected with a needle. The pain medication was in pill form.

"You should take your pain medication with food. The antibiotics do not require that but I suggest you go ahead and take everything at once," said Doctor Kirsch. "I will administer your first dose of the antibiotics here. We need to get them into your system as soon as possible." The doctor turned to Colonel Landa. "I trust she will be eating soon?"

"Yes," said the colonel.

"Make sure she takes her pain pill," he said while loading the antibiotics into a syringe. He took hold of my left arm and asked the colonel to pay attention to where it was injected. "You don't have to look, miss," he said. "Most people don't like needles."

"It doesn't bother me," I said and watched as he injected the antibiotics into my arm. When he pulled the needle out, he fastened a small bandage onto my arm.

"It will be tender where the needle entered for a bit," he said. "You may pick other areas in which to inject her every day," he said and pointed to two other areas on the same arm. "Stick to this arm and alternate your entry points. Above all, keep things clean and keep any open wounds covered."

"Thank you," said Colonel Landa as he placed the medications into the pockets of his trench coat. He then placed the coat back around my shoulders.

"Should you need anything else," the doctor began, "don't hesitate to bring her back. At least bring her in for a checkup in two weeks. I can give her lower doses then."

Colonel Landa and Doctor Kirsch said their goodbyes and the doctor exited the room once more.

"Are you hungry?" asked Colonel Landa as he took my hand and guided me out of the room.

"Starving," I said.

"I'll let you wash up first," he said, navigating us through the halls and back out onto the street where Hermann was waiting patiently. Hermann opened the passenger door and Landa helped me step up into the truck. He climbed in and Hermann shut the door behind us then circled around to the driver's side.

I had no idea where we were headed but I didn't care. I was hungry, exhausted and in desperate need of a bath. I was just happy that my physical examinations were over and food was not far away.


	4. Almost Safe

**REPOSTED CHAPTER**

**New A/N: I am delighted to see how many hits I've gotten on the report but don't be shy even though it's reposted. I hate that I lost all my previous reviews. Please feel free to say anything- what you liked/didn't like, your favourite line or moment. **

Chapter 4- Almost Safe

Ten minutes later, we arrived at the other end of the city which was populated by both civilians and Nazi soldiers. Hermann helped me down from the bed of the truck and the colonel followed. He escorted me down a quiet alleyway and through a side door to one of the buildings.

"This is where I am stationed for the time being," he said. "For now I feel that it would be safest if you stayed under my watch at all times but when I ask you about what happened I need you to tell me everything, Ada. Is that understood?" he asked while leading me up a flight of stairs.

"Yes," I said faintly.

"If you choose to not tell me something," he said, raising a palm upwards as if to say 'who knows what will happen.' "Even if you do not believe it to be a complete fact, I want you to tell me. Facts can often be misleading." He paused at the top of the stairs. "Do you trust me enough to tell me everything?" he asked.

I looked away from his piercing gaze for a brief moment, and then nodded. However, the man was no fool. He caught my falter.

"I don't think you do," he said with a serious face but then that serious face broke into a smile as he continued. "We have time yet to fix that. You have no need to fear me, Ada."

_That smile…Guard up. Guard up. What did your father tell you? Always be on your guard. If I had only listened, I wouldn't be here now. Don't let his smile tear down your walls. This man is heartless. Don't let him fool you. If anyone has an ulterior motive, Hans Landa has an ulterior motive._

I suppose he was walking me up the back staircase so it wouldn't draw so much attention. At the top of the steps was a single white door that led into a large hallway. The walls were painted cream and the lighting was subdued. The warm grey carpet was plush beneath my feet. Almost there, I thought. _Almost saved_.

A small smile grew on my face as we walked the length of the hall towards a single door at the very end. Colonel Landa pulled out a set of keys from his pocket and fished one out from the bundle, all the while keeping one arm on my back. He inserted the key into the door knob and it clicked as he turned it sharply. Turning the knob, he pushed the door open and led me inside.

"You will stay here for now," he said, taking his hat and gloves off. He shut the door behind us and switched on a desk lamp. "I don't want you leaving here without me. Besides, you need your rest so I don't expect you to be going anywhere for a while."

He walked over to a small closet behind his desk and grabbed a large towel. "I'll draw your bath water," he said. "Don't get that bandage on your finger wet."

"What am I supposed to wear?" I asked.

The colonel paused for a moment then walked over to the armoire. He pulled out a long-sleeved button down shirt that was a mustardy-brown color and set it atop of the towel. Reaching in a drawer, he pulled out a pair of dark grey socks and added them to the pile. "It's the best I can do for now, I apologize," he said.

"Anything is better that this," I said gesturing to the torn and stained dress I was wearing.

He smiled. "I'll have proper clothes for you by morning."

"Thank you," I said quietly. He nodded and grinned that lopsided grin.

I watched as the colonel exited to a door off to the right. Moments later I heard the subtle creak of a faucet and the sound of water running. I took a moment to take in the room.

A single room was basically what it was. It wasn't very large but quaint enough. His desk resided on the left as I entered, the armoire was to the right just before the bathroom door. On the far side of the room was a large window that provided a view of the busy streets below. There was a large bed to the left and a small table with three chairs in the corner on the right. Three large bookshelves lined the back of what I deemed 'his office area' behind his desk. Surprisingly, I found no red and black swastika marked banners or flags hanging in sight. _Thank goodness_. I might have thrown up if I had to look at that.

"Ada," he called from the bathroom.

I followed his voice. He had turned the water off and placed the towel on the floor next to the tub. The clothes he provided set by the sink and he had placed bottles along the edge of the tub.

"It should be nice and warm," he said. "Feel free to use my soaps. I apologize if you smell like me."

"It's better than how I smell now," I said. "You don't by chance have a spare razor do you?"

He looked at me quizzically. I let my eyes fall down towards my legs then looked back up at him. He nodded and smiled. "Of course," he said. He reached towards the mirror above the sink and pulled it away from the wall, revealing a medicine cabinet. Grabbing a large razor from the shelf he said, "You may use this tonight." He handed me the large razor and I noticed a small swastika on the hinge. I must have made a face involuntarily. He seemed curious about my reaction but chose to ignore it at the time.

The colonel walked behind me and helped me take off his Nazi trench coat. He pulled the medication out of the pockets and placed them by the sink. "I am going to run a few errands while you are in the tub. I won't be gone long," he said, heading for the door.

"You're leaving?" I cringed at how desperate I sounded.

He raised a hand in defense. "I have to bring you food, dear. I very well can't take you out to dinner in your current state. I will only be gone for a few minutes," he said. "I'll lock the door behind me."

He put his coat back on and assured me that everything would be all right. "I'll run by the tailor's before they close and have them send someone up to take your measurements."

"Colonel," I said, "It isn't that I don't appreciate what you're trying to do for me but I have clothes at my house."

"And where is that exactly?" he asked.

"Strasbourg," I said.

"We are quite a ways from Strasbourg," he said. "And even if we weren't I cannot simply let you go back to living on your own. Ada," he paused, "do you want me to help you find your attackers?"

"Yes."

"Then you will stay with me since I have no intention of leaving you alone and I certainly cannot stay in Strasbourg with you as I still have work to do here," he said. "But we will make a trip of it and gather some necessary items later this week."

"Of course," I said. "I didn't mean to seem ungrateful."

The colonel stepped towards me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "I understand," he said. "Wash up before your water gets cold and dinner will be here when you're done." He smiled again…in fact he smiled a lot for a man that was supposed to be evil.

I turned towards the sink as he exited the bathroom and waited to hear him leave. I removed the bandage from the cigarette burns carefully and placed it by the sink. It was fresh so I saw no use in throwing it away just yet. Afterwards, I undressed and lowered my right foot into the tub. The water was steaming and soothing. As I submerged the rest of my body, the heat ailed the ache in my muscles. I took care to keep my right hand away from the water. It proved to be a challenge at times but I succeeded.

For a moment I just sat there and soaked. Then suddenly I started to cry. It hit me like a bullet. I was relieved. This morning, I thought I'd pass out from exhaustion. Days before, I had never been so scared in my life as I ran from my captors. It had come to the point where I thought I'd never see the stars again…never feel the warmth of the sun on my face…never taste a hot meal again. But there was a God and if he placed me in the hands of the Devil then so be it. That devil was taking care of me. At that moment, that was all that mattered.

I washed my tears from my face and struggled to undo what was left of the bun in my hair. It had become a large tangle.

When I dunked my head back into the tub and pulled back out, my scalp tingled. The air upon my skin was refreshing and cool. I lathered my hair not once, but twice to ensure all the muck and grime was gone. It was disgusting to watch as the bath water went from clear and inviting to orange and brown. However, to my relief, I would not have to cut the tangles out of my hair. As I washed it, the knots unhinged themselves and my hair fell to the middle of my back.

I gently scrubbed each bruise and scrape, making sure that no dirt remained. The water grew darker as I used the colonel's razor to shave my legs and scraped the last bits of dirt away. By the time I was finished, I was so clean that my skin itched due to lack of moisture. It didn't matter though. Food was on my mind.

After I dried off, I pulled the colonel's socks on over my feet and buttoned his shirt. It wasn't so bad. It was practically a dress on me anyway. I gently combed through my hair with my fingers and reapplied the bandage on my burns. Looking in the mirror, I smiled lightly at myself. I was alive. I was clean. I was being taken care of. Everything was going to be all right.

I heard the door in the other room click open and close.

"Ada," Colonel Landa called as he tapped on the bathroom door. "Dinner is served," he said.

My stomach rumbled involuntarily. I straightened his shirt and quickly wiped the tub clean with my towel. Throwing my dress in the trash bin, I turned and entered back into the main room.

"Forgive me for not fetching you something to eat sooner," he said. "I wasn't thinking."

I followed the sound of his voice to the table in the far corner of the room. Upon it were two glasses of milk and two plates smothered with steaming chicken and dumplings. He looked up at me and froze. In fact, he rather stared and it was a bit unnerving with me only wearing a shirt and all…his shirt. He quickly shook the expression off of his face and pulled my chair out for me. I took my seat and he pushed me in.

"It was probably best that you put my examinations first," I said.

He smiled and waved his hand toward my plate. "After you," he said and took his seat across from me. Reaching down into a large paper bag, he pulled out two rolls of bread and handed them both to me.

"You said that your family moved here from Germany," he started.

"I was born in Regensburg," I said between bites. The dumplings were doughy and warm. I practically swallowed them whole.

He began to seemingly murder his own meal during our conversation. He used the side of his fork to sever the dumplings into pieces. I would even say 'violently' would be a good way to describe how he chopped his chicken before stabbing it with his fork.

"I found you in Nancy," he said. "That was the country obviously. You are used to city life, I presume?"

"Very much so," I said. "I loved Regensburg."

"What do you miss the most?" He watched with amusement as I picked pieces from the bread roll and used them to wipe the gravy off of my plate before hastily stuffing them into my mouth.

"There was a cathedral," I said. "The Regensburg Cathedral. They say it started out as just a small church as far back as the year 700."

He chuckled in amusement.

"What?" I asked.

"Your eyes are glistening."

I blushed a bit then shrugged and finished devouring my meal. The gravy alone was so warm and thick it took all of my will power not to lick my plate clean. Sitting back, I continued, "I like the architecture and the history. I think it caught fire a few times but they continued to reconstruct, redesign and add on to it until it became what it is today. Beautiful," I said smiling.

"Is there anything else you miss? Any other family, friends or perhaps a gentleman caller?" he ventured. I did not answer at first so he continued. "Surely, you are old enough to have one?"

"I'm twenty," I said quietly.

He studied my hesitation. "Ada, please," he said. "You have no need to be nervous. We won't talk about anything extreme tonight," he assured me. "I simply want to get to know you."

I nodded in response. I noticed for the first time that he moved his hands a lot when he spoke. It only seemed to add to his charisma and overall presence. And what a powerful and demanding presence it was. He carried himself well. The gestures he made during conversations were so open and personable. It was as if he was being what they called 'touchy, feely' without actually touching or feeling. Odd, I know but that was Hans Landa.

"Thirsty?" he asked, motioning towards my untouched glass of milk.

I took a swig of my milk and savored the taste as it flowed down my throat- cold and creamy. Then without thinking I quickly downed all that was left in the glass. The colonel laughed and pushed the rest of his glass towards me.

_Damn his charm_. Whatever he was trying to do to me…it was working.

With little hesitation, I finished his glass too.

"Would you care for a cigarette?" he offered, extending his case in my direction.

I shook my head. "No thank you. I don't smoke."

"I did not want to seem rude by not offering but I thought as much. Would you mind if I smoked my pipe instead?"

"Please," I said. "Go ahead. I don't mind."

Landa smiled and pulled an enormous pipe out of his coat. When I say enormous, I mean it was almost comical in size. Must be a man thing...a constant struggle to see who smokes the biggest pipe. "Did you work at all in Regensburg?"

"No."

"What about in Strasbourg? After you family was killed?"

"I worked in the automobile shop."

"Doing what?" he asked, a puff of smoke escaping his lips.

"Mostly repairing vehicles," I said. "I helped build a few. With all the men at war, a lot of their jobs opened up so I grabbed the first one I could find."

"I would never have guessed you'd be a mechanic or engineer," he said, his eyes studying my face. "I figured you for perhaps a teacher or nurse."

"It's hard for a lot of men to see women in their jobs," I said. "But I did enjoy it."

"Good. That means you are in full support of your country's forces," he said. "If you are willing to back us up so readily, fixing our cars and building us new ones…Tell me, were you proud of your father and brother?"

I did not know how to answer. I've heard that his gaze could see right through a lie. Thankfully, someone knocked on the door and he stood up to answer it. _Stop letting your guard down. He is getting to you. _

I turned to see an older, stern woman enter the room. She held a measuring tape in her hands and carried a small pad of paper and a pencil. She greeted the colonel then hurried over to me and asked me to stand. I did so.

She introduced herself as Mrs. Schafer and did not say much else to me. She measured around my chest, waist and hips then jotted all the figures down the paper. Next, she measured from the base of my neck to the small of my back, then down to my knees and the floor. Lastly, she asked me to sit in my chair and she held the tape to the bottom of my feet, measuring from heel to toe. She recorded all the measurements on her pad and said, "That should do."

The colonel thanked Mrs. Schafer and escorted her out the door. It was quite a hasty visit. "As promised, everything will be delivered early next morning," she said, her voice firm. He smiled at her and thanked her once more for her time. After she left, he locked the door and turned to me. He took both of my hands in his and led me over towards the bed.

"She seemed rushed," I said.

"She's afraid of me," said Colonel Landa. "Like so many others," he said, laughing as though it was ridiculous to fear him. "Tomorrow," he continued, "you and I are going to sit down and have a nice long chat. I want you to feel relaxed as I'm sure it will be a long day. I have tried my best to mentally and physically prepare you for it," he said. "Nonetheless, I'm certain it will be taxing on your emotions."

He gave my hands a gentle pat and turned down the bed sheets. I had half the heart to ask where he would be sleeping but honestly, I didn't care. That bed looked so warm and welcoming. I did not question a thing.

I crawled into bed and he pulled the covers over me. "Colonel Landa," I said, grabbing his hand as he began to walk away. "Thank you for everything you've done today."

He smiled and told me to get some rest. "Oh and Ada," he said. "You have called me Hans before. I see no harm in continuing our relationship on a first name basis."

I nodded and he went over to the table to clean up our dinner. Five minutes later, he dimmed the lights in the room and sat at his desk, writing notes and glancing through papers.

It wasn't so bad, trying to sleep in an unfamiliar place but strangely enough, for the first time since my father and brother had been killed, I felt safe. I pulled the covers tight and closed my eyes. Within a moment I was enveloped in sleep.

I opened my eyes the next morning to see Hans already dressed and sitting at his desk looking over papers and jotting down notes just as he was the night before. He looked towards me as I stirred.

"Good morning, dear," he said with another one of those smiles. I think it was beginning to affect me. "I trust you slept well?"

"Mm-hm," I groaned and stretched. "What time is it?" I asked.

He chuckled. "Let's just say I let you sleep in," he said while standing from his seat at the desk. He walked over to the door and picked up a large brown bag atop of another chair. "These are for you," he said. "A few things from Mrs. Schafer."

He set the bag on my lap and I peered inside to find a bundle of clothes underneath two pairs of shoes. "Thank you."

"It was nothing," he said. "Now go on," he prompted, gesturing towards the bathroom. "Get dressed. I have sent for our lunch."

"Lunch?" I asked, rising.

"I said I let you sleep in." He smiled at me then gestured once more to the bathroom.

I grabbed the bag from the bed and headed in to get dressed for the day. I splashed my face with water and emptied the contents of the bag onto the counter. Mrs. Schafer had been nice enough to include a toothbrush, hairbrush, and my own personal razor so I would not be subject to use the colonel's any longer.

One dress was green with small white flowers, another bright red with a black belt and the other a deep blue with yellow trim. They were all very beautiful and not far different from the ones I wore at home. I slipped the green one over my head and stepped into my new shoes.

My eyes began to tear as I remembered what my father used to say, 'Nothing makes a girl happier than a pair of new shoes.'

I brushed through my hair and gave my teeth a much needed scrub before reemerging from the bathroom.

"Ah, that's better," he said. Colonel Landa smiled and asked me to turn around. "That dress is very becoming on you," he said. "Mrs. Schafer made a wonderful choice." He placed a hand on my shoulder and gestured towards his desk. I walked over to it as he had asked.

He took a chair from the table in the corner and placed it in front of his desk. He told me to sit there then he pulled his chair from behind the desk and positioned it on the side. Sitting down with his notepad and pen, he looked up at me.

"Are you comfortable there?" he asked sincerely.

"I'm fine," I said, fidgeting in my seat already. "Just anxious to get this over with."

"Then let's get started, shall we?" The colonel loaded his pen with ink and opened a pad of paper on his lap. "When exactly were you captured?"


	5. Ada's Abduction

**REPOSTED CHAPTER**

**New A/N: ****I have just spent the last ten minutes or so looking over my old reviews (which to my delight were found stuffed in my filing cabinet). I can't help but be filled with regret about taking this story away from those of you who seemed to love it so. I had tried at the time to simply change my author name to something different but regardless, if you searched for the old name, the new one popped up. Being traceable still, I hope you understand why I had to do this. But out of my love for all of you, I had to post another two chapters tonight. Enjoy.**

Chapter 5- Ada's abduction

There are points in dealing with Hans Landa that his smiling facade drops and he stops the act, looking at you with the most intense gaze…telling you that he can see right into you. Or at least that's what it felt like. I knew he was listening to my every word, all the while studying my body language. There was no denying he was good at what he did.

"It was at night," I said.

"Try to be as specific as possible."

"It was around eight so it was already dark," I said, fidgeting. I was still trying to get comfortable under his gaze. "I was walking home from the store."

"Store?"

"Yes. I came home from work that evening and realized I was low on groceries so I figured I'd run out quickly before it got too dark. The sun went down a bit quicker than I had imagined."

Hans nodded. "Continue," he said with a wave of his hand.

"I was walking home—"

"How far of a walk was that?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "About a mile to and from, I guess."

He nodded again and wrote something down on his notepad. "Sorry I interrupted. Go on."

"I was about a block away from home when a young man approached me. He was dressed very nicely so when he approached I thought nothing of it. I smiled at him and he asked if my name was Ada von Braun. I was a bit taken aback needless to say. I nodded and he came towards me with this look on his face as though he knew something about me that I didn't know.

"So I began to step backwards and before I knew it I was backed into a nearby alleyway. He didn't say much else but continued to walk towards me and I could hear that there was someone else behind me but was too afraid to look away from the first man.

"I asked him, 'What's this all about?' and he said, 'We heard that you are willing to defend our people despite your German heritage and we like that. We want to take you with us.'" I was afraid to look at Hans's face as I said that. I feared that he might not help me should he know how I felt about my family's involvement in the war. After all, all it seemed to do was get them killed.

He only grunted in response and wrote something else on his pad. "Go on," he said. "What happened next?"

"I told them that they were mistaken and that they must have the wrong person, that I was the wife of a German officer."

"Why did you tell them that?"

"I was hoping it would scare them away. Instead it only seemed to make them angrier. By now I could see that there was another man to my right out of the corner of my eye. I still heard the one behind me and there was a fourth approaching from behind the man I was talking to. I had hoped at first that he was not with them and was coming to my aid but I was wrong.

"He asked for the name of my husband and I blurted the first one I could think of—yours."

Hans nodded again and jotted something down. He looked back up and prompted me to continue.

"What was their reaction?"

"They laughed and I heard the man behind me whisper your nickname. Then everything happened so fast. The man in front of me knocked the groceries from my hands and the man behind me rushed forward and wrapped one arm around my waist. He had my arms as well so I could not fight. Not that I had much of a chance.

"In his other hand there was a white cloth that he placed over my nose and mouth. When he did so, he actually lifted me off the ground so I couldn't kick him no matter how hard I tried. Then everything went black."

"You said there were four of them? Can you describe what they looked like? What they were wearing?"

"The man that first approached me was rather short. He had pale skin and really dark hair. As I said before, he was nicely dressed as was the man that came into the alley later, behind him. His hair was lighter though and curly. The man behind me I never got a good look at. It was dark in the alley. The man beside me was greasier looking. He wore slacks and suspenders but was nowhere near as rich looking as the other two. He just watched."

"What was the next thing you remember?"

"When I came to everything was blurry at first and dim. I tried to focus but I still felt 'out of it' and there was a searing pain in my stomach. The pain in my stomach grew and several realizations hit me at once. I was lying on my back, on a table and the man with curly hair was holding my hands over my head. I glanced down and realized that my dress had been opened and there was another man leaning over my stomach with a knife.

"That was one of the first things they did to me. I never knew what it said until you found me yesterday. It was too messy for me to read."

"The man who carved you- do you remember what he looked like? Did they ever use names to refer to one another?" asked Hans.

"No," I said. "I never heard any names. But the man doing the carving was older. He had facial hair and the rest that I had seen so far were clean shaven. He wore glasses and was smoking a cigarette at the time. In fact," I continued, "he gave me my first burn that night. I began to struggle and he lifted my leg and took the cigarette out of his mouth. He said it was for my own good and stabbed the lit cigarette into my skin. That was the first of the burns obviously."

"What else happened that night?"

"He went back to the carving. They didn't bother knocking me out again," I said and Hans wrinkled his brow while he wrote something on his notepad. "What is it?" I asked.

"I find it hard to believe that Jews did this to you," he said.

"You don't believe me?" I asked, nearly in tears. The colonel was all I had. If he didn't believe me, who would?

"I believe that you believe you're telling the truth. However, I don't believe what you believe is the truth is the real truth. Does that make sense?"

"You think I've been misled," I said.

"Tell me, Ada, why exactly do you believe that your attackers were Jewish?"

"Well there are several reasons. For one, they made sure to repeatedly tell me that they were Jewish. I had no reason not to believe them. They seemed to hate me because I was German and hated me further after I said I was the wife of a German officer. What would you believe?" I asked and studied his face. I'd never met someone who was this hard to read. "You still think it was the Americans?"

"Though it doesn't sound like them, no doors are closed just yet," he said.

"You think German supporters did this to me?"

He seemed to take that thought into consideration and wrote it on his notepad. "It is a possibility but so far from what you've described and from what I've observed I'm not sure what to make of things. This could be a new organization that we are entirely unaware of as of yet. But for now I want you to keep going. He burned you with the cigarette for the first time and finished the carving... What happened next?"

"They lifted me off of the table and carried me by my arms and feet to another room. There were no windows so it remained fairly dark. One of them opened a metal door and they swung me back and forth, counting to three before tossing me into this dark room. It was empty as far as I could tell. I was in there all alone in the dark for the better part of a week. I thought they had forgotten about me, honestly. I heard very few noises from the other side of my metal door. No one ever came in to check on me or offer me food or even torture me further. I figured they had left me there to starve to death.

"I was terrified. I had always hoped that I would die peacefully or instantly. I didn't want to see it coming. I think that would be the worst way to go- knowing that it is going to happen and not being able to do anything about it. And what could be slower than starving to death?"

"Perhaps they thought your stomach would bleed enough for you to die that night due to loss of blood," he suggested casually as though he had done it to someone himself.

"Perhaps," I said. "But I think I would've preferred to have died then instead of being subjected to what they put me through the next week. Dying sounds a lot better than having to live with the memory."

"What is that famous expression? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," he said with a smile. His smile, which I felt that I hadn't seen in years, put me at ease. _Damn his charm_. "Now, judging by the state of your injuries and the fact that nothing much happened during the first week of your abduction despite, of course, the one burn and the fact that my name was engraved on your stomach...Would it be safe to assume that we are about to delve into the thick of things?"

"The second week you mean? Yes."

Hans took a deep breath. "I'll tell you what. I'll ask you one more question and then we will take a break and wait until after lunch to continue with the rest. Acceptable?"

"Yes," I said. "What did you want to ask?"

"Did you really say that you would defend the Jewish people?" he asked, his face devoid of that handsome smile. I looked away for a moment. "I'll take your hesitation as a 'yes'," he said.

I began to stutter out a response as he wrote something else on his notepad. Blast that stupid notepad. "Not exactly," I said. He stopped writing and looked up at me, waiting for me to continue. "I wasn't proud," I said. "I wasn't proud to be associated with the Nazi party and what they did. I wasn't proud of my father and brother dying to defend that cause. I didn't consider it brave then and I don't now," I finished trying to hold back the tears of fear.

He merely looked at me with that solid, fierce stare. It was unreadable and I feared his reaction to my words above all else. This wasn't just a Nazi soldier. This was Hans Landa. Before he said anything there was a light set of knocks at the door. His stare lingered on me for a moment, then he stood and walked to the door. "That will be our lunch," he said but I could not yet heave my sigh of relief. I was stupid to voice my opinion at all much less to voice it to him. Only time would voice his opinion of me.

**A/N: I am increasingly annoyed by the 'readers' who a) are naive enough to think that the people of the world are either purely evil or purely good with no grey area allowed and b) expect this to plow full force into a steamy hot porn fic- which it won't. Sorry to disappoint.**

**However, I am amazed by the mature readers I have garnered the trust of who understand all the things mentioned above and never cease to back me up even when at times I'm not overly impressed with my own work. Above all, I thank everyone for their input and honesty, whether in good taste or bad.**


	6. Ada's Escape

**REPOSTED CHAPTER**

Chapter 6- Ada's Escape

He fixed my plate and set it next to me on his desk without so much as a mention towards our previous conversation. It seemed odd though I could never be sure of what he was really thinking. With a single finger, he pushed my plate towards me. "You should eat something," he said while taking a large bite of his lunch.

"I'm sorry. I'm just not hungry." Honestly, I couldn't take not knowing his thoughts on what I had just told him so I decided to distract myself by learning more about him. After all, he seemed to have everyone figured out yet he was still a mystery. "Colonel…"

"Hans," he corrected.

"Hans, may I ask you something?"

He smiled, lifting the left side of his lips higher and placed his utensils on his plate, turning his full attention towards me. His expression was more serious than normal and with one look into his eyes he seemed more closed. It was as though suddenly he had built a brick wall around himself.

"Why were you in the country yesterday? I mean you were the last person I expected to run into. I figured someone of your stature would be in the big cities," I said.

"The Furher himself has moved me from my home in Austria to the French 'cow country' to track down Jewish families that have not yet been accounted for."

"Oh," was all I could say. As for what happened to them when he found them—I could only imagine.

He placed a finger on my plate and tapped the rim suggestively. I still shook my head. He sighed in defeat and finished his meal looking over his notes in silence. When he was finished, he piled his scraps along with my untouched food on the other side of his desk. "I'll take care of that later," he said and brushed himself off. Pen in hand, he looked at me to continue.

"When did you realize that they hadn't forgotten about you?"

"One of the younger ones opened my door. He was my age it seemed with thick, curly, blonde hair. I tried to feign sleep but all he needed to see was that I was still breathing. He called out to some of the others who came in and picked me up off of the floor. They carried me into a different room—one with a table. I imagine it was the same one they had me on the first night I was there. All the windows we passed were boarded up or painted black. I thought I'd never see the outside world again."

"If we drove back to where I found you do you think you'd recognize the place you escaped from?" he asked.

Fear struck me at the thought of going back there. I tensed but replied, "Possibly. When I left I didn't exactly look back."

"During your stay there, how many different men do you think you saw?"

"At least twenty," I said. "They came and went. I'm not sure where to but they were never all there at once."

"Did you ever see any women or children?" he asked.

"No," I said lost in thought. Hans raised an eyebrow at my drawn out response. "They had mentioned other women as though there were others being held against their will, like me but I never saw them or heard much about them."

"Interesting," he said and jotted a few notes down. "They brought you to this new room," he continued, "then what happened?"

"They told me since my 'husband' was so good at finding people," Hans smiled at this, "that if he truly loved me he would come find me but until he did they were going to make sure they left their mark. Since I knew you were not even aware of my existence I pretty much gave up all hope right then. I stared into space a lot as they talked to me, lost in my thoughts. They did not like that."

"What were your thoughts?" Hans asked.

"That this was it. This was the end. I was going to die in this place. There was no escape. And for a moment my terror seemed to subside. I had become an empty shell. The next week became surreal like it wasn't really happening or I wasn't really there all of the time. I imagine it was like what they call an 'out-of-body' experience. I could see things happening to me but did nothing about it but watch it all."

"Did they do anything to you that night?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "That was the first night I was raped." I paused, hoping he wouldn't want me to go into too much detail about the incident. Lucky for me, he seemed more interested in my attackers. He noticed my hesitation and prompted me onwards.

"Can you describe the man—"

"There were three," I interrupted. He raised his eyebrows.

"Three?"

"Three men. One was the greasy one from the alleyway. The second was the curly youth and the third was someone I'd never seen before."

"Can you describe this third man?" he asked while writing all of this down.

"He looked to be in his mid-thirties and was extremely clean cut. His hair was about your shade, perhaps a bit darker."

"Did he say anything to you? Or did any of them for that matter?"

"You want me to repeat what they said?" I asked, feeling tears prick my lower lids. I crossed my legs involuntarily and took a deep breath as Hans waived the pen back and forth suggesting that I could just give him a gist.

"They told me," I started, cringing at the waiver in my voice. "That they were going to… to—"

"It's all right," Hans reassured me. "I've interrogated numerous individuals. I doubt you'll say anything that can shock me." I mouthed the word 'fuck' and he closed his eyes, smiled and nodded once. I guess it was to further encourage me or perhaps show his understanding. I'll never really know. "You don't have to use their exact phrasing," he said.

"Until I bled," I continued. "That I was going to be black and grey in select areas and they were going to perform experiments on me."

"Did they ever perform experiments?" he asked.

"I guess that depends on your definition," I said.

"In yours?"

"No," I said. "I guess not but they reminded me that there was no use in trying to run or fight because they would always be able to find me no matter what."

Hans nodded. Keeping his full attention on me, he placed his pen down. "Ada," he began, "do you know why they said these things to you?"

I shook my head.

"Because they were trying to convince you that there was no way out when there obviously was. I mean you're here now," he said, gesturing towards me with a smile. "A person would say something like that to their enemies in an attempt to extinguish any hope that might be left. They said these things to you not necessarily because they were true but rather to instill fear in their victim so you would not try to fight them because hope wasn't there." Explained like a man who knew exactly what he was talking about.

I'm sure he did but nonetheless, at this very moment in time I was thankful that this man's name was carved into my stomach because despite what he might think of me, he took me in, fed me, sheltered me and offered his full attention to a story that I would assume other Nazis would laugh at or push aside.

Yet here was Hans, not only listening but explaining things to me and as the day turned to evening I found that despite my hatred for the Nazi organization I had at least a seedling of respect for this individual—this man, who seemed to take great pleasure in educating me in the ways of torture and violence. The way he explained it, it was an interesting medium. Regardless of what he was saying, I found that I took great pleasure in listening to this man talk. I could listen to him talk for hours.

It was no secret that I prized intelligence in a man but in my mind, I was ashamed of myself for allowing my heart to feel the least bit attracted to him as he continued to enlighten me in graphic detail on the darker side of human nature. He seemed to understand all too well what was going on in the minds of my captors. It was frightening yet alluring. I suppose it was his job to know what goes on in others' minds. And no matter how gruesome in detail our conversation grew, to him it was as though we were talking about the weather or a sporting event. I wasn't sure whether it was him being professional, or him being utterly dangerous.

"Were you ever raped again?" he asked.

I nodded.

"When?"

"The following five or six days," I said. "I lost track of time a lot. There were no windows."

"Just once a day?" he asked.

"No. It was as though I had become a communal pack of cigarettes. One man would come into my holding room and have his way with me then leave, usually without saying a word. Sometimes minutes passed, sometimes hours and someone else would enter and do it all over again. It's like I was there for their sheer pleasure and nothing more. They came in, they did what they needed to do then they went on about their business."

Hans took a deep breath and picked his pen back up. "Let's move on, shall we?"

"Yes," I said, the thankfulness evident in my voice.

"Want to tell me how your finger was broken?" he asked, resting an ankle on the opposite knee. His free hand tapped its fingers patiently.

"It was the extremely clean-cut man from before. The one with hair like yours," I said. "I don't remember what exactly he said to me but as he was leaving my holding room one night I waited until he turned his back and I flicked my middle finger into the air." I demonstrated for Hans. "There was another man in the hall though that saw what I did and alerted the man. He came right back in and grabbed my hand…snapped my finger like a matchstick. It seemed to only further prove that I was nothing to him. That he could break me with a snap of his fingers.

"When he left the room the other guy came in and pressed his fist firmly into my face. That was my last night there. I'd had enough. I wasn't dying fast enough for my liking and I certainly wasn't going to give them the pleasure of asking for death so I started thinking of ways that I could get out. I thought of the other rooms I had been to and how they all connected, where the doors were. I figured it couldn't hurt to try and escape. If I was caught, they'd kill me and if I wasn't, I'd be free. I was willing to take the risk."

Hans smiled at me. It wasn't that lopsided smile but instead a full on, teeth exposed smile. Although, it seemed a little creepy it was nice to see. It was then I thought that despite what I had said to him earlier about defending the Jewish, he still thought well of me…possibly. He seemed pleased by my will to fight. He admitted that he was impressed.

"Most wouldn't do that," he said. "Especially most women."

"We're stronger than some of you think," I said.

"Look at your life, Ada. You had nothing left to fight for yet you still did," he said with more excitement than anticipated. "You have no family and being that you moved here not too long ago, your friendships cannot be but so strong…yet you still fought by your own will. It's as though there is a wild beast inside of you, Ada, bloodthirsty for a battle." He seemed to love that idea a bit too much for my liking.

I shook my head. "No, Hans. I'm afraid you've got me wrong. I'm no monster."

"I didn't say you were."

"I'm not an animal."

"Then why did you fight?" he asked. "Primal instinct. Don't be ashamed of it. It's natural. It's human nature. Survival of the fittest. Your primal urges kicked in and you went from a battered young woman to a savage fighter."

"I'm not a savage," I said, growing a bit annoyed with his enthusiasm.

"Don't tell me you escaped from the clutches of these men who, as you put it, could 'break' you, were in and out of this place day and night in great numbers and none of them saw you," he said with a grin. It was like he knew something about me that I didn't… or that I did but didn't want him to know. "It is unlikely that you would've been unseen by anyone and even more unlikely that they would have just let you escape." His demeanor seemed to return back to normal…whatever normal was for Hans Landa. "Tell me, Ada, is it possible that you killed one of your captors?"

"I'm not a savage," I repeated in a shaky voice. Tears started to well up in the corners of my eyes and for the first time I thought I saw admiration in his eyes. He was right. I had murdered but I was not like him. I was not like the Nazis. However, through my tears I found it hard to separate myself from him in terms of murder. It was silly. I knew we weren't the same but when Hans stood from his chair and opened his arms to me I couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging for the first time in a long time.

It was as though he was the master and I, the apprentice. Praising me for what I had done, he rubbed my back gently. As soon as realization dawned on me, I pushed him away. "Stop that," I said.

"Stop what?" he asked, looking overly innocent.

"I don't need your comfort," I spat.

"Ada, you and I aren't much different."

"I am nothing like you," I said, my volume rising with my anger.

"What am I like?" he asked. I didn't respond. "You know nothing about me," he said, his voice remaining calm and controlled. "Jew Hunter," he said in little more than a whisper. "I didn't ask for the title that was given to me but I earned it and I'm damn proud that I've earned it. Though I wouldn't expect anyone else to understand how proud I am that I'm so good at my job. I'm a detective, Ada. And a damn good detective at that. I earn these," he said pointing to the medals on his uniform, "Because I take pride in my work as a military officer and as a detective not because of the people I've killed. And believe me," he said, "I've killed more than you could ever imagine. I did the job that I was ordered to carry out. So please," he continued, his demeanor turning back to the hospitable hawk in a matter of seconds. "If you wouldn't mind taking your seat and telling me what else happened," he said, raising his palm towards my chair.

"What else would you like to know?" I asked.

"Your other cigarette burns," he said. "Where did they come from?"

"It was the same man," I said. "The one who sliced up my stomach. He knew exactly where it would hurt the most too—right where the first one had been. I imagine that's how the infection started. Every day he would come in, do what he wished and before he left I would feel the burn of his ashes on my thigh. Every day. He never missed one.

"In fact, he was the last one I saw before I left," I said.

"He was the one you killed?"

"No. I killed the boy," I said. "The youth with the curly hair. When I decided I'd had enough, I sat by the door waiting for it to open again instead of just lying in the middle of the floor. He was the next one to open it. When he did I immediately reached for his holster and pulled out his pistol. Before he had a chance to react I pointed the barrel between his eyes and pulled the trigger." When I reiterated this story to Hans, I didn't realize how cold and disconnected my demeanor had become. I frowned when I looked up at Hans and he seemed pleased. He did his best to hide his smile but I could see it faintly. It was enough to know that it was there.

"Surely someone would have heard the shot," he said.

"They did. And that was the first thing that occurred to me was how quiet the place always seemed. The shot echoed through the halls. I didn't stop to think much about it though. Luckily, I think they did. I don't think any of them expected a fight so their shock must have delayed their response."

"You go out just in time," Hans assumed.

"No. Remember? I ran into the chain smoker near the front door. I don't think he saw it coming," I said. "He seemed surprised to see me." I found that I laughed a little picturing the look on his face. "He gave me this look as if to say 'I know you from somewhere but I don't know where.'"

Hans smiled. "It's a nice feeling, isn't it?"

I nodded and found that I was smiling too. It was a good feeling to fight back. It was a good feeling to catch them by surprise. "I pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and jammed it into his eyeball."

Hans chuckled. "You're just full of surprises," he said. "Good ones."

I tried to ignore his comment and continued. "Then I ran. I ran as fast as I could. My legs were like lead but I widened my stride, pumped my arms and pushed myself. I never thought I could run that fast," I said, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. "It was night out and had just rained or so because the ground was moist and slick. At least one of them followed me but I didn't think to turn around. I kept my eyes focused ahead."

"How did you know they were following?"

"There were a few gunshots and some shouts but they didn't last long. I was amongst a lot of trees. We were in the woods somewhere and it was pitch black. I imagine they figured I wasn't worth the fight."

"Or that you wouldn't last in the wild," said Hans, placing his pen and pad on his desk. "But this was not the day I found you, correct?" he asked.

"Right. I'm not sure exactly…you found me yesterday which was?"

"Tuesday," he said.

"Tuesday. So the night I escaped was either early Sunday morning or very late Saturday night. I know you found me on the third day. So now what? You've heard my story. Now we just wait?"

"I'll have to conduct interrogations on suspects," he said.

"And how will you find suspects?"

"I have to return to the country tomorrow and possibly for the rest of this month. There are several Jewish families unaccounted for. More than you'd think. I'll look into your boarded up shelter amongst woods," he said, standing and pulling his chair back behind his desk. "Until then you'll stay here."

"I thought I was only evidence? You've got all the evidence I have to give," I argued. "Can I not go home?"

"You said they knew your name. There is no telling what else they knew about you," he said. "You also said they confronted you not far from your home. What makes you think they don't know where you live?"

"So your answer is for me to stay locked in here unless I'm with you?"

"Yes," he said. "For your safety. Is this not acceptable?"

"You're going to go back to work and I'm going to be stuck here all day every day for God knows how long," I said. "I'm used to being a bit more independent than that."

"And look where that independence landed you," he argued.

"I'm going to go crazy in here."

"Have you any better ideas?"

I didn't. That ended that conversation. I sat defeated while Hans took care of our food from earlier.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "I can get dinner."

"No," I said.

He was dangerous. He could not be trusted yet I was like a moth drawn to the flame or perhaps even, if you will, the mosquito caught struggling for its freedom from the spider's silky web. He had me all right. I was stuck. I had simply escaped a prison to be caught in the wild and stuffed back into a cage, albeit cleaner and less hostile. I knew it wouldn't be long before I would have to escape again- though this time, from a man I once considered to be my savior. However, how can you be expected to escape the grasp of Hans Landa. Part of me wasn't even sure I wanted to escape and part of me needed to.

I was startled from my thoughts as Hans held a glass of red wine in front of my face. "It will help you sleep tonight," he said. "I daresay I've stirred up a few emotions not worth stirring up." _There was that look again…that smile._

I took the glass with a 'thank you' and found that the dry and bitter taste wasn't much to my liking but I drank in anyway. Somehow, it warmed me inside and thanks to my empty stomach, it wasn't long before I was sleepy and asked to retire for the evening.

Hans was gracious and allowed me one of his shirts again for the night since I still had no night clothing. I changed quickly and splashed my face with cool water before crawling under the covers. He took a seat beside me on the bed.

"I will find them," he said, placing a hand on my cheek for a moment. Then he returned to his desk. Again, I wondered where he slept but still didn't care enough to ask. My eyes closed as soon as my head hit the pillow and I fell into a deep sleep.


	7. A Test of Loyalty

**REPOSTED CHAPTER**

Chapter 7- A Test of Loyalty

He made me relive events that I had already tried to erase. The alcohol on top of things might not have helped. Or perhaps it was the mixture of the memories, the alcohol and the medication—the latter two which probably shouldn't have been mixed in the first place—but when I awoke kicking and screaming I was surprised to find him at my side so quickly. So surprised in fact that in my sleepy and terrified state I swung out my fist in defense and he recoiled, covering his mouth with a hand.

"Hans," I gasped, covering my own mouth. "Hans," I repeated, moving closer to him.

He held up one hand in defense but remained silent.

"I'm so sorry," I said. "Here, let me see." I pulled his other had away from his mouth and he took a taste of his bottom lip.

"That's quite a swing you have," he said. The left corner of his mouth lifted quickly but only for a moment. At least he tried to show me that wonderful smile.

"I'm so sorry, Hans. I'll go get a damp cloth," I said and retreated to the bathroom. When I reemerged he was sitting on the edge of the bed tenderly fingering his lip. "Here," I said, gently dabbing where his lip had busted. It wasn't the best look for a colonel to have.

I was well aware of his body's proximity to mine along with my lack of clothing or rather my lack of _his_ clothing. I tried to tell myself that it shouldn't make a big difference. There wasn't a part of me that this man hadn't seen by now but somehow it was still different.

"Bad dream?" he said, breaking the increasingly awkward silence.

"Gee, how'd you guess?"

"When someone digs their fingernails hard enough into their palms that it leaves a mark they aren't dreaming about puppies," he said while flipping one of my hands over.

His statement evoked a small smile but it quickly faded as I finished touching his lip. His bottom lip, red, slightly plump and smooth on the edge of a finger…

"Ada."

"Hm?" Wide-eyed, I realized what I had just been thinking and promptly returned my eyes to his.

"I asked what you were dreaming about," he said.

"You're a smart man. I'm sure you could guess."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"No. I'm sorry. How does it feel?"

"It's fine," he said, standing. He took the damp cloth from my hands. "Thank you," he said. "I'll take care of this. Go back to sleep." With that he turned and vanished into the bathroom. I did as he asked though I had trouble falling back to sleep.

The following week went by far faster than imagined. I spent most of my mornings catching up on sleep, after which I'd take a long bath and redress the bandage on the cigarette burns, making sure to keep it clean. Hans had my lunch sent to the room every day. It was delivered by a young French girl with bright blue eyes and dark curls. She always returned exactly an hour after she had delivered it to collect any dirty dishes and scraps. All the while, she never spoke a word to me but smiled. I returned the favor but by mid-week I found that I craved someone to hold a conversation with. My French wasn't perfect so it was probably for the best.

Hans would walk into the room every evening between six and six thirty with a smile. It seemed that he was always smiling except when he was at his desk pouring over his paperwork. He didn't smile at that. We made light conversation at night and over dinner, mostly about me. To my disappointment, he spoke very little about himself but I never turned away the offer of intellectual conversation. He never failed to point out that my eyes glistened when I spoke of something I loved or enjoyed. And he never failed to flash that devilishly captivating grin when the blush spread to my cheeks.

I found that the antibiotics made me drowsy so he made sure to inject them just before I retired at night. The weather didn't help my energy level either as one night it started raining and it hadn't let up once. My left arm quickly began to ache from the shots. Hans wasn't exactly gentle with a needle but he applied the bandage afterward with a healer's touch.

After the fourth day, I realized that I looked forward to Hans coming home…home. I suppose it was beginning to feel like one. A home that I was trapped in but a home nonetheless. I grew restless knowing that my attackers were still out there. It wasn't that I didn't feel safe where I was, I just felt that I couldn't ever be happy unless I knew the threat was gone.

"Ada," said Hans, "solving a crime doesn't happen overnight. Take these Jewish families for example, the war has been going on for how many years now and I am still finding them."

"You think it could take that long? Years?"

"It's highly unlikely but still possible. Rest assured you will be taken care of all the while."

"I still don't see why you care so much," I said.

"Have I not already explained that?" he asked with a hint of annoyance in his tone. "My name is on your stomach."

"So? I'm sure it's only because I claimed you were my husband. I bet if I had said someone else's name then theirs would be on my stomach."

"I still take it as a personal attack. Perhaps you're right. Or perhaps they hate me and that's why when you claimed you belonged to me, it only fueled their fire."

"I didn't think of that," I said shamefully.

"I'm not saying it's a fact," he said, calming his tone. He rested his hands on my shoulders. "I'm saying it's a possibility and as a detective, I have to consider all possibilities. A lot of enemies would love to get their hands on me. I can't be too careful."

"I understand," I said. "I guess I didn't think you were capable of feeling fear."

He smiled graciously. This time it was sincere. "Just because I choose not to show it doesn't mean it isn't there, no matter how small that fear may be," he said. _He was human after all_. "Have patience with me, Ada. I will find the men who attacked you."

"Then what? What will happen once you find them?"

"That's none of your concern," he said.

"I need to know."

"You need to calm down," he said.

"Don't tell me to calm down," I said, raising my voice. I pushed his hands off of my shoulders and turned away from him. "I am calm." I knew I wasn't but I hated how he was always right. He placed his hand on my shoulder again and tried to turn me around. "Don't touch me," I said, surprised to find myself fighting tears.

There was that look again. His gaze was solid and focused like it was when he first sat next to me in the car. Only the deepest reaches of the ocean could match the coldness seen within them. Smile gone, he was completely closed off. He let his hands fall to his side and waited for me to say something else.

"Please, don't look at me like that," I said quietly, avoiding his piercing eyes. "I'm sorry. I just wish to be alone." He made no move to stop me as I walked past him and into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I sat on the toilet lid and began to cry. I felt so stupid. Of all things, I certainly didn't want to be alone. I was alone all day.

I tried to rationalize my thoughts but they kept getting jumbled and more confusing. Cabin fever. I was sick of being inside and lifeless. Everything and nothing was in my head at once. I wasn't even sure what I was upset about anymore but I knew one thing. I wanted out. I wanted out so badly I was literally pulling at my hair and gritting my teeth, trying not to scream at the top of my lungs. I thought maybe screaming would feel good or maybe it wouldn't make me feel anything. I was going crazy locked up in this hole and I'm not sure if it was better with him here or not.

I emerged from the bathroom hours later no doubt looking a fright. My hair was sticking up in odd places and there were tear stains down my cheeks. I chanced a look at Hans who immediately dropped his eyes back to his desk. What was so entertaining on those papers, I wondered. I spent the rest of the night sitting near the window and staring at the outside world. We didn't speak.

After a while, lost in my thoughts, I began to nod off and turned to see Hans, fast asleep in his desk chair. His head was resting on his right arm and his pen was tangled in his fingers. I listened closely to his breathing, soft and subtle. A small smile graced his lips and I found myself wanting to touch him if even just to brush a finger through his hair. I refrained for the time being and went to bed myself.

The rain and gloom continued to blanket the city for the remainder of the week. I didn't bother to get dressed anymore. In fact, I hardly bothered to leave the bed and I knew I was a thorn in his side. The tension between us was so strong in the silence that it could've been cut with a knife. I had hoped to steal glances at his notepad while he was out during the day but he took most of his work with him. So I, as always, was left in the dark.

However, there was a map, folded and hidden beneath a book on his desk. There were several locations highlighted. The first mark circled the town of Elmshorn, about 30km north of Hamburg. The second circled Syke, 20km south of Bremen. The trail moved farther south west and stopped at the city of Mannheim, Germany. On the edges of the map, written on top of the waters in a masculine yet controlled hand were the words _Basterds' largest scalpings_.

I was slightly angered at my discovery. What an idiotic assumption and to come from Hans of all people. The trail that the Basterds had made was only now getting close to France. So it would be silly to even consider them to be my attackers but I suppose like he said, all possibilities were open especially since my family had been killed near that last city of Mannheim, not far from Strasbourg and the border between Germany and France.

If that was the most recent attack then it would seem that the Basterds had gone silent for the time being but I knew little of the ways of war and tracking enemies. Though I did check the map everyday to see if he had added any new developments, I was unsure why my curiosity had peaked. I blamed it on the lack of having anything else to do. I had glanced over the books on his shelves but they were topics that didn't much interest me. I had reached the point of boredom and possible depression that I didn't feel like trying to get myself out of it. Someone else would have to pull me out and right now the only someone else I had was Hans. I didn't see him helping anytime soon.

The next day it was as though the rain had been given a time limit to deliver and that time limit was almost up so the sky let loose and heavy downpours began to flood the already soaked streets below. Six o'clock came and went as did seven o'clock and there was no sign of Hans. I found myself feeling the first signs of panic when eight o'clock arrived and he wasn't home. I felt sorry for having yelled at him the other night and not talked to him since. I felt guilty for shutting him out when he had offered me so much. If even just a little, I wanted Hans to walk through the door and I stared at it from my perch on the bed waiting for the knob to turn.

Nine o'clock arrived. The rain had let up but I still paced the room, waiting for his return. I thought about getting dressed but I honestly didn't have the attire to go out into the muddy streets looking for him. And why would I look for him? It was a stupid idea that I pushed aside. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Surely, he was fine they must've gotten stuck in the rain. I made excuses for him, some were rational.

It wasn't until 9:23 that I saw the knob turn and Hans entered. Drenched to the bone, his uniform dripped on the floor. He closed the door and removed his hat while I rushed over to the small closet and grabbed a large towel.

"You're soaked," I said, helping him out of his trench coat.

He looked at me with a small grin—the first I had seen in days—and a glint of surprise in his eyes but he said nothing. Before I could catch myself, I was unbuttoning his uniform. His hand caught mine and there was an unreadable look in his eyes.

"I'll get you some dry clothes," I said and walked over to the armoire.

He followed me still and stopped me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"We haven't talked in days and all of a sudden you want to take care of me," he said. His voice was scratchy and his eyes glassy. Yet he still was able to look angry.

"Are you sick?" I asked.

"I'm fine," he said, grabbing a fresh pair of slacks and a long-sleeved thermal shirt from his armoire. He brushed past me, into the bathroom and began to draw water into the tub. I let a few sneezes pass and a couple nasty coughs before I pulled the red dress on and paced the room some more. He was in there a while and I could hear him moan after an awful demonstration of what it would sound like to hack up a lung. He had taken care of me in my time of need and I was a complete stranger to him. Though this seemed nowhere near as severe, it seemed only right that I do the same for him. After all, he was still a stranger to me.

I turned as I heard the bathroom door click open. He stepped into the room dressed in dry, grey slacks and a heather blue thermal shirt that hugged his frame rather nicely. He looked confused as I was dressed.

"I thought I might fetch you something to eat," I said lamely. "Are you hungry? Have you eaten?"

He stared at me for a minute. "No," he said quietly. "I haven't."

"Where do you get our dinners from? I'll go get you something."

"You don't have to," he said.

"I want to."

He sat on the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. He rubbed his eyes, scratched his head and eventually looked up at me. Pointing to the bathroom, he said, "My wallet is in my uniform. Bring it here."

I obliged happily…probably more happily than I should have been. I went into the bathroom and saw that he had haphazardly piled everything into the sink. I'd have to take care of that later. I reached into the pockets of his coat and pants until I found a black leather wallet and pulled it out. He asked me to pull out fifty marcs and leave his wallet on his desk. There was a lot of cash inside and I had half the thought to take out extra while he wasn't looking and leave tonight.

"That should be more than enough for dinner," he said between coughs. He looked like he was about to fall asleep on the spot. Dark bags hung under his eyes and his nose was slightly pink and irritated. "I'd like a light soup if you wouldn't mind. Get what you wish for yourself. The restaurant is just across the street," he said while pointing at the window. "On the corner, across from the barber shop."

He didn't look at me while he spoke. I had ample opportunity to take the money and go but I didn't have the heart to do that to him. Perhaps if he had been more cross with me, it would be easier but I knew that the longer I waited the harder it would be to leave. I slipped 100 marcs more from his wallet before placing it on his desk.

"Why don't you lie down and get some rest," I said, hoping his senses were not still strong enough to detect the anxiousness itching beneath the surface. I would leave him while he was down. It was the only way I could slip through his fingers.

He nodded and looked towards me. I smiled and grabbed his trench coat off of the rack. "I'll be right back," I said as I placed it around my shoulders and stepped through the door.

150 marcs and the clothes on my back… Where would I go? What would I do? How long could I hide from Hans Landa? The questions raced as I descended the back stairway to the alleyway. I crashed into the door in my haste but was welcomed by the fresh air.

I had never understood what people meant when they said the air was 'crisp' but now I did. Alive and clean after the rain, I inhaled deeply and slowed my pace. A smile played on my lips as I graciously walked to the restaurant for something to eat.

I decided to sit down and eat my dinner there as I mulled things over in my mind. My medication was still in the room. Could I go without it? Should I go without it? Would Hans care? Would he bother to look for me? If he found me, what would he say? Think? Do? Was he worried that I wasn't back yet? Did he think I had any intention of leaving him? I sat at the restaurant until just before it closed—over two hours after I had arrived.

Before I left, I hesitantly ordered his soup. If I go back now, he'll be angry it took me so long. If I simply never came back, he couldn't fuss but I started to think realistically. How could I get away? I couldn't. It was that simple. I had no means of travel and he knew where I came from, where I lived. Worst of all, I found that I feared being on my own so soon after the incident. They were still out there. Hans was a means of protection for now.

I looked up at our window to see the light on, backing the silhouette of a man standing at the window. He didn't see me but he was watching the streets. Hans was waiting for me.

I entered into the building by its main doors for once and used the elevator to get to our floor. I didn't bother to enter quietly since I knew he was awake and boy did he look angry. Still sporting the glassy eyes with bags underneath and a raw nose, he turned to me with fire in his gaze.

"I'm sorry," I blurted. "I know you're starving, Hans. I'm so sorry but I needed the fresh air desperately. I felt like I was dying in here. I swear it wasn't my intention to make you angry."

His face seemed to soften and he sighed, rubbing his eyes again.

"Did you get any sleep while I was gone?" I asked hopefully as I walked over to the table and started unpacking his dinner.

"No," he said, barely above a whisper. He took his seat and allowed me to serve him with little objection. Milk was of course the drink of choice and the chicken soup steamed nicely as I poured it into a bowl. I set the bag to the side and placed his trench coat back on the rack.

"Would you like me to put the change in your wallet?" I asked.

"I'll take it," he said to my dismay. He looked at me just then and I know he saw the panic in my eyes but I quickly tried to cover it and reached into my pocket to produce the money. I had folded the returned bills separately by habit of mine and was able to pull them out without any of the other bills sticking to them. He eyed me suspiciously as I reached into my other pocket and pulled out the coins. I rested both in the palm of his outstretched hand and waited for him to speak. He didn't.

In fact, he seemed more dangerous when he didn't feel well then when he was fine. I suppose that when dynamite is under extreme temperature it doesn't matter how long the fuse is. It could blow if you breathe on it the wrong way. In a nutshell, that's what it was like living with Hans.

"I'll go lay your clothes out properly so they dry."

"Already done," he said and gestured to the seat across from him at the table. There was no smile on his face but I tried to act as pleasant as possible as I took my seat.

"If you're mad that I took so long, I'm sorry," I said. "I've been stuck inside buildings for the better part of a month. I need a break. And you were right. I'm beginning to feel like I have nothing to live for…nothing to fight for and it's depressing."

"I'm not mad," he said, downing his milk.

"You look mad."

"To some I always look mad."

"Not to me. You usually smile all the time," I said to which he plastered a lovely though fake smile on his lips. It made me laugh. "Can I get you anything else? Do anything for you?"

"No. Thank you," he said, the anger seemed to have faded. "Thank you for dinner." He pushed the empty bowl away and sat back in his chair.

"Thank you. You paid."

He closed his eyes and nodded once.

"You need to get some rest," I said, rising from my chair. I walked over to the bed and turned down the covers. "No more sleeping on your desk. At least not for tonight."

"Where will you sleep?" he asked.

"If you can survive the desk, so can I," I said.

He walked into the bathroom and grabbed my medication, loaded the syringe and sat on the edge of the bed. He patted the spot beside him.

"I was going to do it myself," I said. "You don't feel well." I held out my hand to take the syringe but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me with such force that I landed on the bed, flat on my back. He leaned over me, squeezed my arm as I squirmed and forced the needle into my skin. "Ouch," I hissed as he pulled away. "You're mean when you're ill."

He smiled. "You think I'm always mean," he said and put the syringe back in the bathroom. I stood from the bed, rubbing my arm and waited for him to come back in and sit on the bed. I flicked the lights out in the room and turned his desk lamp on as I packed the dishes away to be taken back to the restaurant tomorrow.

I strolled back over to the desk and took my seat in his chair. His wallet still set on the top but was not placed exactly how I left it. _He knew_. I immediately looked towards his form on the bed. He was lying on his back and his eyes were closed. Breathing slowly, I couldn't be sure if he was acting or truly sick and tired. _But he knew. He must've known. A man like Hans knew how much money he kept on him. He counted it. He knew it was gone. The bastard knew_.

I decided to keep the money with me. I figured it could possibly make him think that he'd miscounted. Besides, I never knew when I might need it. I propped my feet upon the desk and went to click the light out when I heard him call to me.

"Ada, don't sleep there. Come here," he said patting the bed at his side.

"Hans?" _He knew. He knows._

He slid to the side to allow me more space but still I did not budge. A single finger from his right hand lifted and pointed down towards the mattress—a firm but silent statement and his straight face left no room for argument. I kicked off my shoes and did as he asked, sitting next to him on the bed.

"What is it?" I asked.

He looked at me with an odd expression, one of contemplation and subtle pleasure. "When I was waiting for you, I could have sworn that you were going to leave me. I thought surely you'd take the opportunity to leave while I was down," he said. _He knew and he had the audacity to toy with me over it_. "Guess I was wrong." _And there was that smile_.

I tried to keep my expression pleasant. "Does that happen often? You being wrong?"

"I'd like not to think so" he said.

I desperately hoped he couldn't see through my grinning facade but regardless of the dark circles underneath, his gaze could still pierce and seemed even more terrifying than usual. I felt my heart pounding in my chest so hard that I thought my ribcage would burst any moment. That was if I hadn't already lit his fuse or breathed on him the wrong way. The dynamite was still highly unstable. I tried my best to play the part of the hospitable hawk.

Leaning on one elbow, I raised a hand to his cheek. It was hot as a firecracker. "Are you running a fever?"

"I'm fine," he insisted. "It's only a head cold. Lie down and go to sleep."

I didn't want to over-act and make him suspicious so I let a single finger run over the grey hair near his ear then pulled my hand back. Lying flat on the bed I closed my eyes and secretly prayed that he wouldn't take the opportunity to stab me while my guard was down. It was an unsettling little game we had going on here. Silent but unsettling.

Luckily, when I awoke the next morning I found that I was still alive and in one piece. Though I hadn't slept well the night before due to more nightmares, I was awake before he left for a first. Hans stood by the window, straightening his cuffs and his tie. They had to be in the perfect position before adding his coat.

"Good morning," he said with that increasingly infuriating yet gorgeous smile.

I grunted involuntarily. My stomach was churning unpleasantly and as I sat up I felt the need to rush into the bathroom before I regurgitated stomach acid all over the bed. I covered my mouth with my hand and bee-lined for the toilet. Lifting the lid, I fell to my knees and things flew out of my mouth that I don't recall having put in there in the first place.

Within seconds, Hans was next to me. Everything was in place except his coat was not buttoned.

"Think you could have given me something?" I groaned.

"No," he said, pressing him palm against my forehead. "No fever."

He was right as rain. "You're feeling better I see," I mumbled against the toilet seat.

"It was just a head cold," he said. "I'm fine."

It was then the thought occurred to me that he might have been feeling fine the whole night; that the 'head cold' was all an act and a very persuasive and convincing test of loyalty.


	8. Mixed and Moved

**REPOSTED CHAPTER**

**New A/N: New scenes added. **

**A/N: I found this. Thought it was interesting:**

**Q: You got to be a little bit of everything. You got to speak many different languages. You got to be funny. You got to be scary. You got to be romantic. What is it like taking on absolutely everything all at once? **

**Waltz: I disagree entirely. It's not a little bit of everything. It's all of that character, and I insist on the unity. That's what makes it interesting. A little bit of this, a little bit of that sounds very post-modern. Zzzzzzz (makes a snoring sound). No, no, no, it's very definitely one line down the road. This character is very, very integrated. That he has many interesting little strands and fibers, sort of mental, intellectual kind of varieties that are really rare in its multitude, that's a different story. But it's still one character.**

Chapter 8- Mixed and Moved

"I cannot stay here today," he said and pushed the hair away from my neck with a gloved hand. "I have to go into the city and arrange things for our move tomorrow."

"Move?" My voice echoed in the toilet. I felt a fresh patch of sweat begin to chill against the back of my neck as I lifted my head from the cool porcelain.

He leaned back and regarded me from his position. "I told you the day before yesterday."

"Hans, we haven't spoken in days," I said. "I think I'd remember if you suddenly said something, especially if it was about moving."

"I apologize," he said with a smile. "It must have slipped my mind."

"Would you like to tell me about it now?" I asked as I flushed the toilet and began to rise. I walked over to the sink and rinsed out my mouth before he spoke. He was more silent that usual and seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

"I received a letter from the Fuhrer that ordered me to make a more permanent residence in the city." He fingered the rim of his hat before placing it on his perfectly combed head of hair.

"And I'm still expected to stay with you?"

"Precisely," he said. He studied the look that registered on my face with some trepidation. "Ada, we've been through this. You know I can't very well set you back onto the streets alone while your predators lurk. After all, you would be valuable to any foe. You know where I live."

"If you let me go now, I won't because you're moving," I countered. Somehow his excuses to keep me under his watch didn't appease me. There seemed to be some underlying ulterior motive and I'm certain with him there was always an ulterior motive. However, for me his reasons did not suffice. Call it what you will—women's intuition, third eye, sixth sense—but I felt something pulling beneath the surface when it came to Hans Landa.

It had strayed into my thoughts at numerous times that he might be a very lonely man. He had never mentioned a wife. Then again, he never mentioned hardly anything about himself. I was naive enough to think that perhaps he simply enjoyed my company. I only thought these things because I wanted to. I wanted him to feel that way about me since I had grown to feel that way about him regardless of his fierce reputation.

I was curious about that reputation though. I had only ever heard stories, I had never seen it for myself and consequently wondered if any of it was true or to the extreme that people claimed. Yes, he was cold and possessed a darker aura at times but was it all just another act? I wanted to see the real Hans Landa and in order to do so, I had to stay with him. What better way to be acquainted with someone than to live with them? Share their meals?

He never gave a response to what I had said. Instead, he simply nodded in a firm gesture that suggested finality and left the bathroom. Though I did feel better I couldn't help but be peeved by his sudden departure. There were no words of sentiment or even a 'rest and feel better.'

Back in Regensburg, there was a girl I went to school with named Ellie. She used to always swear to me that men with what she termed 'butt chins' were assholes. I never saw the connection or understood why she made the claim. However, I could see that Hans had one of those 'butt chins.' Its subtlety mimicked how well he could hide it but this time it was more pronounced than usual. Ellie was right. Like his so-called 'fear,' it was there, hidden beneath the facade of charm and charisma.

As the day passed, my mood progressed and I felt silly for assuming that the infamous Hans Landa would just toss away a day of work to nurse me back to health. Besides, I didn't want to fall into the trap of depending on him. I was repulsed at how quickly I forgave him when he walked through the door and the first words that left his mouth were, "Feeling better?" And he followed it with his trademark lop-sided smirk that could probably make the stars fall from the heavens.

It was stupid to be upset over something so trivial but I was a female after all and I blamed my moodiness on my stress and frustrations. Even I knew I was crumbling. I could feel myself fraying at the edges from being locked inside this tiny hole of a room and I dreaded the next visit to the doctor.

Dr. Kirsch would only confirm what I didn't want to know. I was ten days late and I'd never skipped before. I wondered what Hans's reaction would be as I was disgusted with my own reaction. I didn't want it. As if my stomach wasn't already a terrible reminder. No matter what, I would be stuck in this part of my life forever or at least that's how it felt. Everything that had happened to me before the accident was a happier time. All of my memories were bright and now when I thought about things, a blanket of gloom shrouded them. My thoughts were dark and increased in intensity as the days went by without a word from Hans about my captors.

"I'll have tomorrow off due to the move," he said while hanging his coat near the door and removing his hat. "It is about time that we take you back to Dr. Kirsch. Afterwards, we can stop by your old place if you feel fit."

I felt my face lift and my heart jump at the mention of my home. Had he reconsidered my offer? Did I want him to reconsider my offer? Could I ever expect to leave this man, forget about him and never have him be part of my life?

_No. _

"Oh?"

"I had promised you earlier that we would take a day and collect some of your things. I am a man of my word, Ada." He stepped closer to me and placed a sturdy hand against my forehead. "Still no fever," he said. "How is your stomach?"

"Fine. It must have been something I ate," I said, smiling half-heartedly. He frowned. I needed to work on my lying skills.

"Hmm. Perhaps," he said. "I didn't pick up dinner tonight. I thought we could go out if you feel up to it? It might be nice for a change of scenery."

I was barely able to contain my glee.

It was nice for once to be chauffeured by him. We did attract a few stares throughout the evening but no one dared bother us. He picked a quiet corner at a smaller venue and mentioned that it wouldn't hurt his investigation if we were seen together in public. In fact, he rather seemed to prefer the idea. He said that a person's initial, unguarded reaction to something could tell him a lot about what they thought on the subject at hand. Though he seemed focused on me enough throughout our excursion, I could tell that he was also focusing on passersby. In my opinion, any investigation that involved me being escorted by Hans Landa was worthwhile.

Though it was frightening how I found myself attracted to him, I kept trying to tell myself that one could not help who they loved or why they loved them. It just happened. Did it not? And how did I go from 'attracted' to 'love' so quickly? I tried to erase the thoughts from my head but how could I ever erase any part of him? He was in my skin, underneath it even. My respect for him began to grow, as did my trust in him. Regretfully, I was falling for a murderer. But was he that? Or was he just a man who was doing his job?

I hoped that the next day would keep my mind busy enough to mute these never ending thoughts. I would address them at a later date when my mind was less jumbled.

* * *

I sat on the examination table and waited for Dr. Kirsch to enter. Hans stood in the corner and surveyed his surroundings, occasionally peeking behind cabinet doors. He seemed to have a child-like curiosity about things that could never be satiated. The more he explored, the more he wanted to learn.

I couldn't help it but he caught me smiling. He furrowed his brow in confusion but before he could say anything the door opened and Dr. Kirsch stepped into the room.

"Ada," he greeted. "Lovely to see you." He smiled widely and crossed over to Hans. The two men said their silent 'hellos' and he placed his clipboard on the counter.

"It's lovely to see you too, Dr. Kirsch," I said, mirroring his smile.

He approached me and pulled his glasses from his coat pocket. He lightly tapped my chin and turned my face from side to side.

"That eye seems to have healed nicely. How does it feel?"

"Wonderful."

"Any complaints? How are you handling the pain?" He lifted my right hand and removed the splint from my finger.

"Um, no. There's no pain."

"Amazing," he said and turned to smile at Hans. "Your age is on your side, Ada. I knew you'd bounce back nicely. He turned back to Hans and said, "I'd like to take some x-rays of this finger to check healing progression, if you wouldn't mind."

Hans waved his hand and smiled pleasantly. "By all means, do what you must. I will wait here." A look of fear must have passed over my face. After all I had never been alone with anyone but Hans since the incident.

"We'll be just across the hall," Dr. Kirsch said. I cleared my thoughts and with a parting glance towards Hans, left the room.

I sat in a small chair with my arm elevated upon a table, a lead mat beneath it and another resting over my shoulder and chest. "Dr. Kirsch?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you about something while Hans is in the other room?"

At the mention of this, he placed his pen down upon the clipboard and removed his glasses, turning all of his attention towards me. "What is it?"

It was best to get it over with. "I think I might be pregnant," I said. His expression barely registered surprise. "Hans doesn't—or well at least I haven't spoken to him about it but I'm sure he knows. The man knows everything."

Dr. Kirsch laughed and scooted his chair closer to me. "That he does," he said. He lifted my right hand away from the x-ray machine and held it within his. "If you want an abortion—"

"—No," I said. "That isn't what I want. I couldn't do that. I'm just not positive. Is there any way that you could tell me today whether I was really pregnant or not?"

He nodded. "I'll need a urine sample. We can take care of that before you go back into the examination room. I'll wait until the test is done before I come back with the x-rays. If the test comes back positive though, I won't be able to put you back on those medications."

"Well, I do feel a lot better in the mere two weeks I've been on them. I think the worst may be over with and perhaps after you assess the damages, you'll agree that I can do without them."

"With the injuries I saw two weeks ago, I think it would be a mistake if we did not continue with a smaller dosage of the medications. It would be inadmissible for me to not take proper care of a patient especially one so heavily under the watch of a colonel." With that he stood, removed the lead mats and handed me a small cup from a cabinet. He led me out into the hall, "Second door on the left," he said. "I'll wait right here."

This was ridiculous. I knew I was pregnant yet I was hoping he could prove me wrong. My fear of telling Hans was absurd. It was as though he was my husband and I was afraid of his reaction but it really had nothing to do with him. Or did it? I guess it all depended on how long I'd be staying under his guard.

I made quick work of the sample and handed it to Dr. Kirsch when I exited into the hall. He directed me back into the examination room with instructions to inform Hans that he would only be a few moments.

"You look nervous," Hans said as he helped me hop back up on the table. He left his hands on either side of my hips. His face had never been so close to mine but I did not find him intimidating. The brim of his hat cast a subtle shadow over his eyes and still I found comfort there. "Everything all right?" he asked, lop-sided smirk in tow.

"Yes," I said with all the firmness I could muster. "I'm just dreading the rest of the examination if you know what I mean."

I frowned and looked away from him. He placed a hand on my shoulder and said, "It should be the last time anyone has to look there if that is what you mean. You were brave enough to do it before. You can do it again," he said with a simple shrug of the shoulders. He stepped back and walked towards the opposite wall as Dr. Kirsch entered with X-rays in his grasp.

I was beginning to hate how Hans just stood in the corner or against the wall, acting like he wasn't there when it was completely obvious that he was. I often wondered what he was thinking while standing there, making his quiet observations.

Dr. Kirsch's social personality helped the rest of the visit go by quickly. Though I couldn't see them, he assured me that the burns were healing nicely and that all traces of infection had vanished. The examination of my insides wasn't as bad as before. I knew what to expect this time around. However, Hans did not hold my hands. I didn't realize how much I appreciated that small gesture last time. I glanced over towards him as I lay on my back and he stared back intently. _Butt-chinned asshole_. I had to remind myself that he wouldn't be here all the time and I shouldn't want him to be.

Dr. Kirsch put the stirrups away and frowned. "I have some good news and some bad news," he said.

I pulled my legs back together and propped myself up on my elbows, listening intently.

"What is it?" asked Hans.

"Well, there is no infection inside," said Dr. Kirsch. "Which is wonderful. However, the largest wound is not healing as fast as it should. In fact, it hardly seems mended at all."

"What can we do?" I asked.

"It is a difficult spot to get to but there is one thing we can try. I didn't suggest it last time because, Ada, I felt your mental state was a bit fragile and you were barely acquainted with Col. Landa. I trust that you both have developed some sort of understanding with one another?"

I looked at Hans, unsure of what exactly we had and he looked back at me before turning his attention back to Dr. Kirsch and nodding. His crooked smile stopped short of meeting his eyes.

"What's the solution?" I asked.

Dr. Kirsch inhaled deeply. "There is a cream," he said. "It's a fairly new development amongst medicine but it should do the trick. The problem is that it has to be injected every night and it won't be very comfortable."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The cream must be injected every night as you are horizontal. If you should get up after it is put in, it will fall out and that will be a night of wasted medicine."

"Ok," I said. "Go on."

"It will sting," said Dr. Kirsch. "Badly. You could even say it's a burning sensation but this is good. This means it's working. The only problem is that as you start using it, it may sting so badly that you, Ada, may not wish to put it in all the way or at all. This is why I am suggesting that Hans inject the cream every night."

I knew my eyes must have been wide as saucers. I glanced at Hans. His expression unreadable, as always in these intense situations. I adverted my eyes back down to the floor then to Dr. Kirsch as he began speaking again.

"As you continue to use the medicine, the burning sensation should gradually fade and when it does, it will be time for another visit to see how much has healed. As I said before, I didn't suggest it last time because of your mental condition. Not to say that what happened to you would be easily forgotten, but I doubted you trusted Hans enough to have him insert a foreign object inside a very sensitive area. I also was not sure if you would need the medicine or not. I had hoped what I gave you would heal that large cut as it did all the smaller ones. Since that didn't work we need to use more extreme measures," he said.

I nodded, staring blankly at the floor.

"I'm not going to ask whether this is an option or not for you both. It must me done," he said with a tone of finality that only Hans could mirror.

With that being said, he stood from his stool, leaned over my torso and asked me to unbutton my dress. As he examined the scratchy scrawl on my tummy I looked up at his eyes, hoping for some sort of sign, affirming or denying the results of the test. I caught his eyes first and he cast them away then looked back with a subtle nod of the head. I turned my head away from both men and closed my eyes, trying to keep my composure.

"Well, I've always said the youthful are resilient," said Dr. Kirsch. "Landa, you must have worked some magic on her. She has healed better than I anticipated."

"I have taken good care of her," he said, stepping away from the wall.

"Well, it looks as though we can cut back on the old medication. In fact I think it might be best if the rest of her injuries healed naturally on their own, with the exception of your insides. The infection is gone and as long as she claims to not be in any physical pain she can go without treatment for the less severe injuries. However, I will need to rewrap this finger."

"How much longer will it need to be braced like this?" I asked, trying to push the future of what I must endure with Hans out of my head.

"Good question," said Dr. Kirsch. "Let's have a look at those x-rays."

Hans stood next to me as Dr. Kirsch moved across the room and lifted the pictures to the light. Afterwards, he handed them to Hans who did the same, neither of them allowing me a glimpse.

"What would you say? Two weeks?" asked Hans.

"Yes," said Dr. Kirsch as he re-wrapped the finger. "Two weeks it is. If all goes well you should have your finger back." He smiled at me and Hans handed the x-rays back to him. The gentle pressure on my waste alerted me to the fact that he was helping me down from the table.

"Now was that so bad?" he asked quietly. "Roderick, I was wondering if I could have a word with you in private?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," said Dr. Kirsch.

"Ada, if you wouldn't mind waiting here, we will just be a moment," said Hans.

"Actually," said Dr. Kirsch, "I was hoping to have a private word with Ada first. I will join you in just a moment."

Hans nodded in agreement and left the room, giving me one last glance before he exited into the hall.

"Ada, I know that this new treatment might be invasive but that wound is not healing and if you're going to have this baby then it must be healed. There is a sense of urgency here," he said. "If it doesn't get treated properly, the wound may reopen during labor even though that is months down the road. It needs to be healed completely."

"I understand," I said.

My responce seemed to be satisfactory, as Dr. Kirsch grabbed his clipboard from the counter and walked out of the room. I moved next to the door to see if I could catch an idea of what they both needed to discuss out of my presence.

"—do you think it might be something else?"

"It's possible," Dr. Kirsch said. "But only Ada knows what is going on inside of her. If she says she ate something perhaps that is all."

"I trust your medical opinion, Roderick," said Hans.

"Why don't you ask her yourself? She is staying with you, is she not?"

Hans must have nodded. I heard no reply.

"How is her stress level?" asked Dr. Kirsch. "Any post-traumatic-"

"-Nightmares," Hans interrupted. "She's had some frightful dreams it seems but other than that I think she is tired of me," he said with a hint of humor.

"You are a good man, Hans, but if you insist on keeping her with you can you at least not treat her as your personal prisoner? Get her out of the house. Her mental state is crumbling. Instead of getting stronger, she is growing weaker."

"You think I can't see that?" said Hans. His tone was icy and angered.

Dr. Kirsch took a deep breath. "I know the girl is in good hands but I also know a man who gets off on being in control. Between friends, let her breathe, Hans. You're going to suffocate her."

If Hans made any response it was inaudible.

I walked over to the x-rays that had been left on the counter and held them each up to the light. I didn't know exactly what to look for but it was obvious where the bone had been snapped. Satisfied, I carefully slid the x-rays back into the folder they came in as the men walked in from the hall.

Dr. Kirsch handed Hans a large leather case, filled with my new medicines and bid us goodbye.

* * *

Before I could see our new place of residence, Hans promised a lengthy trip to Strasbourg where we would fetch lunch in the city and stop by my 'former' place of residence. Both he and Hermann stood outside the front door as I rushed around to gather things. I dug my father's old suitcase from his closet and filled it with my favorite clothes. I stared at my nightgown debating on whether to pack it or not. Though perhaps not entirely appropriate, I had grown accustomed to his shirts. They were comfortable and scented with a hint of aftershave around the collar. With that last thought I tossed my night dress back where it came from.

That aftershave was heavenly.

Make-up and other beauty necessities went in next and I closed the suitcase satisfied that I had everything I might need. I knew that he had no reservations when it came to providing me with food or anything else I might need.

On my way out, I passed by the room my father used as his office. I stepped in and hastily grabbed some favorites from the shelves. Books in one arm and suitcase in the other, I exited the house.

Hans raised an eyebrow at the books in the crook of my right arm. "You are more than welcome to peruse my books," he said.

"Now you tell me?"

"As if that would've stopped you. Besides, I daresay you've taken to my shirts for night clothes." His eyes were filled with laughter as he smirked. "Ada," he started to explain, "we will be living together. That in itself is an intimate gesture. We can't stay strangers forever. What is mine is yours."

"Thank you," I said as he took my suitcase from me and placed it in the back of the car. "But your books are boring," I said.

"My books are not boring," he said and yanked my books from the crook of my arm. "My Antonia, and Dante's Inferno?"

"It beats Codes and Ciphers, Reading Between the Lines, and An Encyclopedia of Weapons. Don't you have any fiction?" I asked, surprised at my own playful tone. The bastard was rubbing off on me.

"Why? So you can keep your head in the clouds all day?"

"You don't ever want to get away from your real life?"

"And dive into Dante's Inferno? No."

"That's my favorite," I whined and Hermann opened the back door for us.

"You really are full of surprises," he said and we both took our seats. Hermann shut our door and circled around to the front. "I try not to fill my head with fictitious nonsense."

"Sorry. I forgot. You're not stuck inside all the time. You have contact with other humans."

"Ada, where is all this hostility coming from?"

"You know damn well where it's coming from." I regretted the tone I had taken with him instantly. He face fell and there again his eyes were cold. The wall inside had been rebuilt in an instant.

Lips tight, he spoke through his teeth. "It would do you good to not speak to me in such a tone."

I lifted my chin and glared back at him. "I will speak to you in which ever tone I see fit."

He wrapped a gloved hand around my chin and pulled me closer. His voice remained silky as he replied, "Without me you would be dead."

"I can see what you're doing but I'm not afraid of you," I said.

With haste his hand left my chin and moved directly to my neck. There was no denying his physical strength against me. "I'd really like not to hurt you, Ada. I can squeeze harder if you'd like."

I shook my head and he eased his grip but still did not remove his hand. I had half the thought to shove it away but knew that would only raise his temper. It's like Dr. Kirsch had said—he gets off on being in control. _Butt-chinned asshole._

"I don't want us to be enemies, Ada but I can't understand your sudden disposition. One minute you smile at me, the next you bite my head off. I am used to being respected. If I let go will you play nice?"

I nodded and he removed his hand from my throat. We repositioned ourselves and I spent the rest of the car trip trying to act like I didn't notice him staring at me.

Lunch was rushed and eaten in a painful silence. He tried to prompt conversation twice but it seemed that neither one of us was fond of small talk so eventually he directed all of his attention towards Hermann.

I barely listened as the two soldiers chatted amiably. Instead, I picked at my meal, intently focused on the ringing in my ears. I was pregnant. _Pregnant_. Not only was I fully unprepared to raise a child on my own but I didn't want any children. And what would people say as time passed and my stomach began to show? Would they assume I was some unlucky whore? Would they assume that I was impregnated by the Jew Hunter? And on top of this I was subject to humiliation by him every night because of this stupid wound. I knew he was capable of being gentle but all the same, I didn't want him down there. Not yet...not like that.

I couldn't help but notice some of the reactions we received the previous night. Hans was right; catching people off guard was an interesting way to see their true feelings regarding the matter at hand. Some of the townspeople I saw sported a look of disgust which was quickly replaced with a blank stare or a flash smile before they looked away.

Certainly, he was a well-mannered man when it came down to it and who was to say that he couldn't be married? Or have a family? Hans Landa creating another life would be like the Grim Reaper having a child. It just didn't happen. That's what the townspeople saw. They saw him as some sort of super villain or a great evil force that lacked a pulsing heart. But I saw so much more than that in him.

Our new home was one story but it was plenty big for the two of us. There was a small vestibule that led into the kitchen. With a large window over the sink, there was a nice view of a small porch and yard. Left of the kitchen was a small den, furnishings still intact. The wood and walls were dark but cozy.

On the right side of the kitchen was a narrow hall that led to one bathroom and two bedrooms. His desk had already been moved into his room. The walls in those bedrooms were green and throughout the house, minus the kitchen and bathroom was lush cream carpeting. All in all, it felt very welcoming and homey.

"Let's not go through another silent phase," he said, sitting next to me on the glider.

"I thought you would have enjoyed the last one, what with me not pestering you."

"You don't pester me," he said softly. "You've got your health and your much desired fresh air yet you are more on edge than ever. Want to tell me why?"

"Not really," I said. He responded with a nod. He continued to sit next to me in silence and though I pretended to focus on something in the distance I could tell he was staring at me. No doubt, if I ever had the option to read someone's mind it would be his. And right as ever, one minute I hated him, the next I realized how silly it was to hate him. You should be able to trust the one who saves your life.

"I'm pregnant," I said barely above a whisper. "Please say something."

"What would you like me to say? That I knew? That I saw it coming?" He readjusted his position on the glider and turned himself more towards me. "Most women would be beside themselves to know that they are with child and while I understand that you are not like most women and that the given circumstances wouldn't make you overly excited to be pregnant, that doesn't mean you have to go through this alone."

"What are you saying?" I asked, chancing a look at him.

"Ada, we will be living together until the threat is gone and there is no telling how long this might take. Don't stress yourself out so much over something we both know very little about. The future can only be tackled one way," he said lifting a single finger.

"And that way is?"

He tapped the finger upon my nose as he said, "One day at time." A small smile graced my lips which provoked a bigger one to appear on his. "Are you still mad at me?"

"No."

"This is good," he said, moving his hands a lot as he spoke. "From now on I think its best that if there is something worrying you or on your mind that you tell me. If we live together and we don't communicate it creates unnecessary tension and then we're both miserable."

"I think if you loosened up a bit it would help me relax," I said.

"Likewise," said Hans. "Now," he stood and offered his hand. I took it graciously. "It's getting colder. Let's go inside before we both become ill."

Charming as ever, he opened the door for me and led me inside then started a nice fire in the den. He asked me to sit and draped a blanket over my legs before he vanished behind me, into the kitchen. Minutes later he came back into the den and handed me a white mug filled with hot cocoa. How could a man so full of evil be so full of happiness and chivalry?

I studied the mug as he took off his uniform jacket and took a seat next to me. The white mug sported a drawing of Mickey Mouse as 'Steamboat Willy' with the year 1928 neatly printed at its side. Though it felt odd drinking out of someone else's belongings it still evoked a small chuckle.

"I thought that might make you smile," he said, kicking off his shoes.

"You don't have work to do in your office? Not that I want you to go," I said immediately, regretting having asked in such a tone. "You just always seem so busy and now you're relaxed."

"The last two weeks have been taxing," he said. "At work and at home." He gave me a pointed glare then broke into a smile. "You asked me to relax and you're right. I don't do it often."

"This is nice," I said, taking another sip of the cocoa.

He stretched his legs out in front of him and let his head fall back upon the seat. "I can be nice."

"I never said you couldn't," I said and a devilish smile graced his features. If I wanted to survive this tryst, I'd have to maintain a healthy distance even though I'd constantly be in his proximity.


	9. Distance in Proximity

**REPOSTED CHAPTER. (Added scenes)**

Chapter 9- Distance in Proximity

Hans lifted his head and squeezed his eyes shut while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Me too," I said, stifling a yawn.

"Get ready for bed," he said as he stood. "I'll be a few minutes."

I nodded, lost in my thoughts. I had forgotten. My distress did not go unnoticed. Hans helped me from my seat then took my empty cocoa mug and walked into the kitchen. I dragged my feet all the way to my room at the far end of the hall. After cracking the door to give myself a little privacy, I undressed, used the restroom and donned the shirt that Hans had set on my bed earlier that day. I pushed the plastic button through the fine slit in the fabric over my navel as he entered.

"That's far enough for now," he said. He shut the door and gestured towards the bed with an open palm. I obliged and flipped the covers back as he set the medicine on the nightstand. "Do you trust me?" he asked, while rolling up the sleeves of his mustard coloured shirt.

"Yes," I said as I lay down. I raised my arms towards my head and clutched the edges of my pillow.

"Then relax," he said. He sat on the edge of the bed and rested a warm hand against my thigh. My muscles eased. He reached across the bed and grabbed another pillow. "Lift your bottom." I did as he instructed without question and he placed the spare pillow under my hips. "Relax," he repeated as my breathing quickened. I nodded, taking a few deep breaths as he ran his fingers over my hips and hooked them around the hem of my underpants. He slid them down my legs gently but quick enough so that I did not have time to object.

"Ada, I need you to relax your jaw."

"What?"

"If you relax your jaw, you'll relax down here," he said. "Right now you appear to have things air tight." He chuckled and his eyes twinkled down at me as he rubbed my knees. "Do you remember when we first me?" he asked.

I nodded, welcoming his distracting voice.

"The car ride. The examination," he said. "You know me better now. Did I hurt you then?"

"No," I said.

"You let me-"

"This is different," I interrupted. "You were just looking then."

"You know I won't hurt you," he said. _Did I_? He hadn't always been so gentle.

I took another deep breath and tried to still my nerves. I let him pry my knees farther apart and position himself in between them.

"Good girl," he said. He started to trace circles over my upper thigh as his left hand reached for the medicine. I watched as he uncapped a preloaded glass barrel and grasped it between his palm, trying to squeeze some warmth into its surface. "Good girl," he repeated and lowered his gaze between my legs. Once he had the barrel in the proper location he looked back up at me and held my gaze as he guided it inside of me. His right hand never left my skin, and he did not break the eye contact. I felt a coldness ooze inside of me. Then as he guided the barrel back out, the cold began to burn.

I heard a clink as he tossed the injector onto the nightstand. I tried to pull my knees together but he was still sitting inbetween them so I pulled them towards my chest. He grabbed my wrists as I clutched the pillow tighter and gritted my teeth. I groaned and tried to lift my hips, kicking my feet back out and arching my back involuntarily. Hans moved his hands to my hips and pushed them back down onto the pillow.

"Hans," I cried.

"I know," he said.

"No, you don't."

"Shh," he said, tracing lazy circles over my pelvic bone with his thumb. He moved his left hand back up to one of my wrists and tried to stabilize me. "Stop squirming."

"I can't," I grunted through the pain. I kicked my legs against his side but he pushed them back down with his elbow.

"Yes you can," he said. "Breathe deeply. Still yourself."

"It feels like you poured salt in there," I said, biting my lips. I forced myself to still but whimpered as I trembled uncontrollably. He kept speaking to me and his hands never strayed from my skin until he got me to settle. Hans took a deep breath. I looked at his disheveled hair and watched that juicy bottom lip as the air from his lungs blew past in a breeze. His eyes still twinkled down at me. "It still burns," I said in little more than a whisper. I didn't even realize I was crying until he removed his hand from my wrist to brush away my tears. He sat back a moment and looked around the room.

"I didn't pose a challenge for you did I?" I asked at an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

He smiled, still out of breath and shook his head.

"Will you stay until I fall asleep?" I asked.

He nodded and reached to turn the light out. I felt his hands continue to run up and down my thighs, comforting me with his touch. Gradually, he lowered my knees to the side as I drifted. I felt the weight on the bed lift but did not object to his leaving. He had done enough for me. I heard him shuffle out into the hall to use the bathroom and tried to imagine that he was still next to me, easing the pain. To my surprise, I heard him come back into the room. Before I fell asleep, I felt the cool fabric of the comforter being pulled over my legs and the weight of the bed shift again.

* * *

Hans returned to work in the morning, as usual and I was left to explore my new surroundings. It was odd at first, living in someone else's house with a majority of their belongings. Granted, their clothes and more personal items had been removed. I was still sleeping in someone else's bed and eating their food. I felt unwelcomed and half expected a stranger to walk in the front door and throw me out. It was obvious that they hadn't been gone long.

There were two cloves of garlic, an onion and some ripened tomatoes sitting in the kitchen window. A few more tomatoes had ripened on a patch of plants outside. All of the floors and surfaces had obviously been cleaned before we arrived, as I didn't see a speck of dirt to occupy my time with.

I walked into the den and turned on the radio in the corner. I found a suitable station and turned up the volume so that easy music filled the house and gave it a more comely feel. I returned to my room and began to unpack my father's suitcase. I threw my shoes onto the closet floor and placed lotion on my bedside table, along with my books. The phone began to ring in Hans's office but I tried my best to tune out the noise and continue.

The next thing I removed from the suitcase was a small picture frame, graced with the image of my brother and father. Both were clad in their German uniforms and sported prideful expressions towards me. I've no doubt they would be honored to have me staying with Hans. I wondered what they would say if they were here. I wondered how much they knew about him or if they had ever met him in passing. I suppose those were things I wasn't meant to ever know.

The phone started ringing again in his office. I cracked the door to mute the noise but to no avail. It kept ringing over and over again and soon I found that no matter how quiet it was, I was listening for it. The slightest noise and I knew it was still ringing.

I walked into his office and without much thought, picked the phone off the hook and lifted it to my ear. "Colonel Landa's office," I greeted in my best secretarial sing-song voice. A familiar chuckle came from the other line. "Hans?"

"I knew if I called enough it would annoy you," he said. "Thank you for answering as you did."

"You're welcome," I said with a smile. I couldn't deny how nice it felt to hear his smooth voice. "Where are you calling from?"

"Roderick's office."

"You're not sick again?"

"No," he said, obviously pleased with my concern. "I had some questions to ask him but he is currently with a patient."

"Oh, well did you need me to do anything for you?"

"No," he said, feigning his confusion no doubt. "I thought this time I'd let you know that I might be late tonight."

I smiled. "Thank you. Is everything all right?"

"Of course. Just busy. Is there something there for you to eat?"

"I think so. I thought about cooking tonight anyway. You don't need to pick something up every night."

"I'm used to it," he said. "It's no trouble."

"Well if you don't mind I'd like something to do. I'll have dinner ready for you when you arrive," I said.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," I said.

"I meant in regards to your new medicine. Is everything alright? Dr. Kirsch will want a report when I see him."

"Yes, of course. Tell him it burned like hell," I said, laughing. "But now that I'm up and walking about I'm fine. Makes me dread going to sleep though."

"Last night should have been the worst," said Hans.

"I certainly hope so," I said. Then there was silence. "Well, I—"

"Ada," he said suddenly. "I want to talk to you about something tonight."

"Okay."

"Don't let me forget," he said.

"Well how am I supposed to remember when I don't know what it's about?" I asked, mimicking his silky voice to my own surprise. I found myself smiling, twisting the phone cord around a finger and twirling my ankle around. _Am I flirting with Hans Landa?_

"You'll remember," he assured me, sounding equally inviting.

"Tease." _I am flirting with him. Stop it._

He chuckled. "I'll see you when I get home," he said.

"I'll be here," I said.

After I placed the phone back on the hook, I sat in his office chair for a moment. _What was that? Did I really just—I just flirted with him. And it was kind of fun. _

I must have sat there in his office for five or ten minutes replaying those few lavishly spoken words through my head. What was I thinking? He was not someone to toy with but was I toying with him? I could have sat there and thought about him, his voice, anything and the hours would have passed without a care. I shouldn't have wanted to think about him. He wasn't supposed to be a fun or entertaining thought, was he? It was becoming increasingly hard to separate my heart from my mind and it might sound silly but a third force seemed to be working from inside as well—my soul or perhaps my conscience. I blamed it all on hormones and decided that an early start at dinner was in order to keep my mind off of him.

I looked through the cupboards and within the pantry and found very little to compose a complete meal but until we could purchase new things, this was all I had.

I was unbelievably excited for him to come home and taste…this concoction. He would have to be my guinea pig as I tested what he liked and did not like. I imagined it would be much like the first year of a marriage where I burn the meals and my loving husband tells me how great it tastes. But much to my growing chagrin, Hans was not my husband and though he did care for me, I would hardly use 'loving' to describe him.

Pasta it would be for tonight. There was half a box of noodles in the pantry and half a pound of hamburger that had been abandoned in the freezer. I tried to cook slowly so it would take up more time but I found my thoughts constantly going towards Hans so I started to move quicker to push them out of my head. After all, a good spaghetti sauce should simmer for at least three hours or so I've been told.

I went out back and picked what tomatoes I could from the plants growing near the window. It wouldn't be long before the weather turned suddenly and the plants would die. I combined those tomatoes with the ones that had ripened on the sill inside and dumped them into a pot of boiling water in order to help the skin fall off. While they cooked, I let the meat thaw in the sink and began to dice the onion and crush the garlic.

My thoughts had again strayed to Hans as I slowly chopped and listened to the music from the radio. I was hoping that cooking a meal would distract me enough or keep me focused on something other than Hans. However, I was failing miserably. Why did he have to be so alluring?

This whole 'distance in proximity' thing wasn't working too well. I wasn't even in his proximity and my thoughts could not stay away from those lips. They looked like they were just begging for a good kiss. They looked soft and I couldn't help but wonder what they tasted like- what he tasted like. _What would his tongue feel like against mine? Against my skin? What about his skin? What was it like under all those clothes? Hmm. I bet he has scars. That would be attractive. Does he have hair on his chest? I wonder how firm his chest is…_

"Oh my God. What has he done to me," I said out loud to no one in particular and looked down to discover that the onion and garlic had been sliced and diced who knows how long ago and instead I was now cutting air. "That's it," I said and placed the knife down. I fished a small pan out from under the sink and started clawing at the hamburger meat, ripping it into smaller pieces. Parts of it were still iced and rough on my hands but I could not get the God-forsaken man out of my head. I threw the meat into the pan and raised the heat, letting it brown.

A love song started to play on the radio and I groaned in frustration. That was the last thing I needed. I marched over to the dial and found a news broadcast. Turning up the volume, I hoped that these voices would block out the ones in my head.

"—and it has all been orchestrated single-handedly by none other than Colonel Landa, himself."

"DAMMIT!" I immediately switched off the radio. I first I was glad that I had missed the rest of the report but I had to admit, now that I was living with him I was even more curious about what others said. Certainly the media was not allowed to speak out against the forces. I wondered what sort of picture they painted of him…his work. My thoughts began to stray in the silence of the room.

"It's just hormones, Ada," I said to myself. "Hormones, hormones, hormones. You're pregnant. Makes perfect sense." I left it at that and dumped the garlic and onion into a bowl to be used later. I looked to see if there were any other herbs or spices I could use but to no avail. He'd have to let me go to the store.

I tried to picture him shopping for groceries and started laughing out loud. The two just didn't match. _What locations do match with Hans Landa? Country roads? Cars? Hospitals? Restaurants? Hotel rooms? Beds? Beds…What does he dream about? Does he have dreams? He looked so peaceful when I caught him sleeping on his desk that night. The grey at his temple shimmered under the desk lamp. That feature is so sophisticated. I bet his hair is really soft. God, I wish I could run my fingers through it over and over again. It's always combed just right. I want to make it messy. I want to pull and tug at it until it's all out of place and we're out of breath and our lips are bruised and—_

"HORMONES," I yelled as a drop of grease jumped on the burner and sizzled loudly, breaking me from my thoughts. I flipped the meat around as it continued to brown then removed it from the heat. The tomatoes had now boiled for at least 30 minutes. It was time now to remove the skin by placing them in ice cold water. As I did so, the skin tore away and I began removing the seeds and squeezing as much juice out of each tomato as possible. Afterwards, I dumped the water from each pot and chopped up the tomatoes, returning them to the hot pot on low heat.

I strained the meat and kept the grease, dumping it back into the hot pan along with the garlic and onion. They simmered until the garlic was a nice golden colour and then everything was thrown in with the tomatoes along with salt, pepper and sugar. I brought it to a boil then left the sauce to simmer. The clock in the hall chimed four times and I retired to the bathroom for a nice warm bath. The noodles would wait until Hans got home.

By the time seven o'clock had rolled around, I was starving. My stomach felt like this huge, empty void that kept growing bigger and bigger and therefore more and more empty. The thought of drinking down the sauce alone was appetizing. Its garlic scent had quickly filled the whole house but I was trying to be polite in waiting for him. He shouldn't have to eat alone. _I wonder what he did for dinner before I came along? Did he always go out? Alone? With someone? Who? Or did he bring his meals back home to eat in solitude? Did he prefer eating alone? Has he always been alone?_

Before I caught myself drooling over the thought of having him all alone, I made myself get up and scrub the dirty pans and utensils in the sink. By seven thirty, they were clean, dry and placed back where I found them but still no Hans. I was beginning to hate the nights that he worked late and hoped that they wouldn't happen often but as a man with a reputation for being focused on his job, I figured they would.

By eight o'clock I had wrestled with my conscious enough and thought I might pass out if I didn't eat something wholesome. I filled a pot with water and turned the burner on high. I sprinkled some salt in to the water and waited for it to boil before dumping the noodles in. While they cooked, I set the table and stirred through the sauce. Then, Hans came home.

He walked straight into the kitchen and rested his briefcase on a spare chair. He smiled at me and removed his gloves.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" I asked innocently enough.

"You remembered."

"Of course."

He walked towards me, his hat casting a shadow over his eyes. They glistened as they looked down into mine. He lifted his hands, now free of their material sheath and gently placed them on my neck, tilting my head upward so that the light would reveal his craftsmanship from yesterday. It was barely noticeable and really, I had already forgiven him. Perhaps I shouldn't have but I knew I had been rude for no reason to a man that was not accustomed to attitude. Still, that did not justify his actions but I forgave him nonetheless. Why? At this point in time I was finding it unbearably hard to remember as the surprisingly smooth pads of his fingers grazed my neck. I involuntarily shivered and knew that it didn't go unnoticed.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," I said. "You don't have to worry about it. It's nothing."

"Ah," he said with a brief raise of the eyebrows. "If it truly is nothing then what is this little purple mark right here?" He pointed a single finger sternly towards my neck. "Ada," his tone dropped from playful to sober. "You don't need to make excuses for me."

"I'm not."

He held that single finger up in the air and I hushed. "Does it hurt?" he repeated.

"No."

He nodded and turned back towards his briefcase.

"That's it? That is what was so important?" I took a step towards him and he turned back to me.

"I regretted my actions," he said matter-of-fact. "I wanted to apologize. I'm sorry."

"That was unnecessary," I said turning back to our dinner but he quickly turned me around.

"It was necessary. We've both had to deal with a lot lately. We should try our best not to take it out on one another. Agreed?"

"What have you had to deal with?" I snapped. "Sorry. Sorry, I know you're busy at work. I'm just tired and starving and—"

"Have you eaten anything today?" There were his piercing eyes, searching mine, looking angry. "Ada, you can't do this to yourself. I know you're not happy that you're with child but you have to take care of yourself. There's no excuse."

"Stop acting like you really care. What would it matter if I died in your hands? The enemy wouldn't have me. You wouldn't have to put up with me and this ticking time bomb in my belly."

"I'm not killing you. That's absurd, would you listen to yourself? I do care and killing you won't solve my problems but keeping you here rather alleviates them, I find."

"What?"

"I'm not going to lie," he walked towards me so that we were only inches apart but he did not touch me. "It has been years since I've had a home-cooked meal, not to mention one cooked especially for me." He placed one hand on my upper arm and the other tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "You were right. This is nice, isn't it?"

"I don't want to over cook the pasta," I said and turned away from him. A low chuckle resonated from somewhere deep within him but I tried to ignore it. I dumped the pasta into the strainer and shook it about, making sure to rid of all the water. I heard him shuffling behind me and glanced over my shoulder to see him removing his hat and coat.

I was beginning to think that I was only attracted to the idea of Hans Landa instead of Hans Landa himself. He was certainly a nice thought but when he was actually in my presence I was either irritated or confused which only frustrated me more.

Our dinner was actually quite pleasant and I was terrified that it might turn awkward, but never did. He kept the conversation flowing nicely and laughed away the seriousness of our previous exchange. He told me to relax and reassured me that I was safe here and as always, would be taken care of.

"Don't stress anymore about your attackers. I don't want to hear you speak another word about it. I understand your frustrations but these things take time. Don't stress about the child, either. Don't think about the child."

"It's hard not to," I said. "And if I'm thinking about that, I'm thinking about my attackers."

"I know," he said and pulled a cigarette case from his pocket.

"Hans, what are we going to do? I don't know how to be a mother. I don't want to be a mother, not yet at least. I bet it's going to look great when the carving on my stomach begins to stretch."

"Stop," he said. "You'll think yourself to death." He stared me down with a gaze that told me to drop the subject.

I looked down at what remained of our dinner. "I'm sorry dinner wasn't great. There wasn't much in the house."

"Dinner was wonderful. Thank you, again," he said.

"It could have been better. We need fresh food. What do you think?"

He gracefully plucked a single cigarette from his shiny case and placed it between his lips. Seconds later, he produced his lighter and with a subtle click and hiss the tiny flame emerged. He lifted it to the end of the cigarette and blew out the flame through the right side of his mouth like a professional. Setting the lighter down on the table, he turned his attention towards me and raised his eyebrows with a smile, encouraging me to continue.

"I was wondering if you'd allow me go to the store tomorrow?"

"For what?"

"For what? What do you mean 'for what?' Fresh groceries," I said.

His expression jerked as if to say to himself 'wake up.' "Sorry," he said. "My mind was elsewhere."

"It's all right. I know you've had a busy day," I said, standing from the table and beginning to clear it. "You go on to your office. I'll take care of this."

He looked up at me and placed his hand gently around my tiny wrist, silently imploring me to put the plate back down. I did so as he stood and reached inside his jacket. The familiar leather wallet came into view and he shuffled through the bills for a brief moment, the cigarette carefully lodged between his lips.

He went to hand me some money then pulled the bundle back, a playful glint in his eyes. "You really don't have to. I don't mind picking up dinner. I'm used to it."

"It gives me something to do. How do you expect me to not think about things when there is nothing to help take my mind off of them?"

"Very well. I suppose I won't always be here when you're hungry." He handed me a small bundle of cash. "You are to go within the daylight hours only," he started, holding my hands between our faces. "Stick to the main roadways. No alleys, no side streets if it can be avoided. And you are to only go to the grocery store," he said and started to release my hands. "And I want you to tell me which days you plan on going."

"Hans," I said, my tone laced with annoyance. "I'll be fine." I tucked the money into my pocket.

He cast his eyes to the side and frowned. "Do you know how to use a gun?"

"Of course," I said. "I shot one of my captors remember?"

"You pulled a trigger," he said. "There's a lot more to a firearm than pulling the trigger."


	10. Lessons in Warfare

**REPOSTED CHAPTER**

**A/N: It's almost comical how I come to this site and am disappointed to see that no one has updated or created new Hans romances (non-slash)…then I realize that I, myself, have not updated. What's that famous expression? "If you want something done, do it yourself." So sorry for the delay. Hopefully this chapter is worth it. It's not as long as I had hoped for and it's not my best. **

Chapter 10- Lessons in Warfare

He led me out onto the back porch with a warm hand placed upon the small of my back.

"Shouldn't we turn the light on?" I asked. "I'm not going to be able to see much."

"You don't need to," he said. "I'm going to teach you how to use a gun, just as I learned. I don't want you to focus on seeing what you're doing, I want you to focus on feeling it."

We faced the woods in the backyard and he stood behind me. It was extremely hard to focus with his chest pressed against my back but I did my best to try. When he said he wanted me to focus on 'feeling it,' I'm certain he was talking about the mechanics of the weapon but that was not was I was focusing on feeling. His arms wrapped around in front of me and held the weapon so that I could study it closely yet safely. I'm fairly certain while I was trying to tune out the sultry sound of his voice in my ear and the hot breath that tickled my neck he was introducing the parts of a hand gun- the grip, the barrel, the front sight and the safety lever. I'm almost 100% positive that he was explaining how to load the ammunition as I failed miserably to ignore the masculine blend of smoke, aftershave, and leather that began to intoxicate my senses. I was without a doubt not paying much attention as he explained to me the importance on how to grip the gun. At the time my attention was focused on my upper back as I registered his chest's vibrations as he uttered every syllable.

Sooner than I expected, he took my hands and positioned them on the weapon that now pointed into the woods. He widened his stance slightly and let his arms rest along mine, his hands on my hands, his warm breath caressing my ear and neck. My eyes had adjusted perfectly to the moonlit yard yet he insisted that I used my hands to study every part of that gun to know how it truly worked. Lastly, he asked me to aim and fire. If it weren't for his hands still guiding mine, I would have dropped the gun as the onslaught of stubble on his cheek grazed my ear. If he noticed, he didn't mention it. I hesitated briefly but did as he asked and without the adrenaline rush that I had experienced previously when firing a weapon, I found that it took a bit of effort to squeeze the trigger. The force caused me to stumble backwards but there was nowhere to stumble really, except further into him.

I fought my hardest but he could not be ignored. I figured that as long as I stayed strong and didn't throw myself at him, he would respect me. Somehow, the idea of being respected by Hans Landa seemed a great honor.

"Aim, we will work on in the light," he said at the end of my lesson. "You've got to start with basics first."

When we walked back into the house I immediately began to clean up our discarded dinner plates that had long been forgotten. He rummaged behind me softly then appeared by my side as I rinsed the remaining soap from a dish. He reached out for it with a small towel in one hand. I noticed that he had removed his field coat and tie and the sleeves of his mustard coloured shirt were rolled just short of the elbow. I continued to scrub and rinse while he dried and put things in their proper place. We worked in a comfortable silence and I couldn't help but think that we made a nice team.

When the table was cleared and everything was put in its proper place, Hans escorted me into his office where he placed one of his guns into my open palm and ammunition in the other. "Load it," he said. He stood in front of me with one hand in his pocket. "I want to see that you can do so."

I looked at the ammunition palm. There was one magazine and one spare bullet which could only mean he wanted a live round in the chamber. I pushed the magazine into the bottom of the grip and slid that top part back...I couldn't remember what he called it. Thank goodness he wasn't asking me to repeat the terminology. The live round was now in the chamber. I squeezed the smaller trigger on the grip and the magazine fell back out from the gun. There was now one bullet missing to which I replaced with the spare he had provided and shoved the magazine back into the gun.

"Locked and loaded," I said with a satisfactory smile. He smiled back appreciatively and removed his hand from his pocket. He held out a small key.

"This is the spare to the house," he said. "It's yours now."

"Thank you," I said and tucked it into my pocket.

"One more thing," he said with a lift of a finger as he rummaged through his desk. "Take this, too." He lifted up a small leather holster and an extra magazine.

"A holster?"

"This one goes around your upper thigh," he explained, his smirk playful. "Specifically designed for females."

He handed me the holster and said, "Thank you again for dinner," as he planted a light kiss on my forehead.

"You're most welcome," I said, returning the favor with a kiss on his cheek. He seemed shocked by the gesture and an intense silence ensued where we merely stared at one another. Eventually the reverie broke. We exchanged 'goodnights' and I left for my room.

I knew I wanted it and I knew that he knew I wanted it. And though I felt at times that I would either melt or explode in his presence...under his gaze...within his grasp... I found enough strength in me to hold myself back. As time passed, I felt myself bursting at the seams to pounce him but I kept telling myself it was only lust. I was smart enough to know he held great power over others and as charming and persuasive as he could be, I would not let him have control over me. I would not let anyone ever have control over me. Not again.

Getting ready for bed, I realized I could still felt exactly where his lips had touched my brow. I smiled. He had me hook, line and sinker. It was only a matter of time before he started to reel in his catch. I found that for once I was utterly happy to be on the end of a hook...his hook and I would be patient. After all, he is the man and should be the one to take initiative in these situations. Perhaps he was being respectful of my space since he knew what I had been through. On the other hand, perhaps he wasn't interested in me at all. It was just a simple kiss on the forehead and already my mind was reeling. I had even gone as far as to think what our wedding would be like. That's just how girls think, I suppose.

It is not that I didn't gain anything from that night though. My own key...my own weapon...It was official. He trusted me.

I was torn from my reverie as I heard a knock on my door and turned to see Hans leaning against the frame, wiggling another glass barrel between his fingers. I groaned involuntarily. He chuckled and stepped inside my room.

"It has to be done, Ada," he said, shutting the door behind him. I wondered why he did that being that it was just us in the house but I did appreciate it. Overall, it made the whole experience rather private and intimate...almost forbidden. Seeing the light grin on his face, I thought about how much he must enjoy watching me squirm yet his comforting touch would make it all stop- the squirming...the seering pain...the world.

* * *

I made trips to the grocery store at least once a week if not twice since I could only carry so much at a time. Even though our new residence was part of the local milk route, I made sure to pick up extra as the man went through milk like a newborn child goes through diapers. I felt safe during my trips to the store. There were never any incidents that made me feel uncomfortable. In fact, any incidents that did make me feel uncomfortable were on the home front. I sometimes dared myself to make the first move but that was supposed to be his job. We had developed a comfort zone between one another yet I couldn't deny the unfailing want that crawled under my skin. A man that I was once hesitant to sit next to, I now was no longer afraid to share things with. He even made me laugh.

Even though we had grown more casual with one another, he always remained at least semi-professional. What's worse? I think this made me like him more. There were times I dreaded the thought of him coming home to tell me that my attackers had been found and disposed of and that it was time for us to part. I had grown too fond of him and for this reason alone sometimes wished my attackers would evade detection. What would happen between me and Hans when they were found? Would it be possible for me to still be part of his life? No matter what, he would always be part of mine and that was not something I could help. Could he easily let go of me?

For over a month I spent a lot of time alone as he would work late. I found comfort in the news reports on the radio as they spoke of him often and kept me informed. Another visit to Dr. Kirsch revealed that my burns had healed steadily, my finger was ready to be unwrapped and the etching on my stomach was now in the form of shiny white scars. Though still readable, the appearance was less grotesque. Unfortunately I still had to endure the cream at night but the burning had lessoned and Dr. Kirsch informed me that it wouldn't be long before we could stop.

As far as the baby was concerned, my tummy remained small but I could tell a difference. It felt tighter and more solid. My breasts had grown extremely tender and started to increase in size. I wasn't very fold on this as I was quite happy with the chest I had but I knew it would all pass in time and tried to remind myself that patience was a virtue. Though the morning sickness had waned, I found myself developing cravings for odd food combinations. These confessions created the most disgusted look on Hans's face.

"Peaches and mashed potatoes, pineapple and peanut butter," I said.

"Ugh." He looked at me with the corners of his mouth turned down and his nose crinkled.

"Chocolate and salsa," I continued. "Tofu and chocolate, grapefruit and chocolate...basically anything with chocolate."

To this, he laughed and it was music to my ears to hear that chuckle erupt from his chest. I smiled as he went back to reading and I finished ironing his shirts. When he returned home the next day, he handed me two bars of the stuff. "Mix with it what you will," he said. "But if it's any of the pairings you mentioned last night, I'll have none respectfully. Please keep our dinners as normal as possible."

I cooked most nights but he insisted on taking me out once a week. Though he said it was imperative that we were seen together, I don't think he was referring to the media being present on some of our outings. He didn't seem to mind the attention and he flaunted me around like a trophy which I played along with agreeably but I hated the cameras and the endless questions. I let him do all of the talking which he didn't seem to mind either. I wanted to know what reporters wrote about us...what people thought. I knew in time I would find out.

It was a Wednesday night and I was in the kitchen cooking dinner when the front door was thrown open with such force that I heard it hit the wall before it was slammed shut. I turned yet no one was there. "Hans?" I called out. The only response I received was the sound of the bathroom sink turning on full force. I turned towards the hall and noticed dark red splatters and spots trailing to the wash room. "Hans?" I called out again as I rushed to the door.

I braced myself against the frame of the door. His field coat, hat, gloves and tie had been thrown in a pile that rested on the toilet lid. Sleeves unbuttoned and shoved upwards, he was scrubbing blood off of his hands in haste but I saw no wounds. Since he would not answer I sought to wedge myself in between him and the sink. He let me in without protest but a peculiar expression crossed his features. It almost looked like an apology.

I looked at the front of his white shirt which was now drenched in blood and immediately started to undo the buttons. Blood also covered his heather blue thermal but not as much which told me that he was not injured. This blood belonged to someone else. Further study showed me that it had splattered on his boots, his pants and even the little white skull on his hat sported red. Though he must have tried to wash off what was on his face, remnants were smeared around his hairline. It was everywhere. What had he done?

He allowed me to help him out of his shirt and to my surprise, the thermal. They were added to his pile of dirty clothing which I would take care of later. First, I had to take care of the man that wore them. His chest exposed, I couldn't help but run my fingers along the growth of hair that spread over the middle. He was shaking. He leaned forward with his palms pressed firmly to the counter and me in between them. His head rested on my shoulder and I trailed my hands to his back.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he said with a tremble. Shivers continued to run through his body and I tried my best to still him, holding him, rubbing his back, whispering in his ear.

"Deep breaths," I said. "Calm down. You want to tell me what happened?"

I felt his head shake on my shoulder and he stood up straight, looking at me with sadness reflected in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said.

I wrinkled my brow. For him to react this way, it must be extreme. This was not the Hans Landa I knew nor the one I had heard stories about.

"Dr. Kirsch is dead."

"What? How?"

But before he could answer we both heard the sound of the front door clicking shut and the light tread of footsteps in the kitchen.

We both turned our heads towards the hall. Hans grabbed his gun from the counter and slowly cocked the safety lever back with a light click. I regarded him with wide eyes and wished there was a way for him to tell me what was happening. However, his actions told me exactly what to do. He bent down quickly and slipped his hand under the hem of my skirt. Rising, his hand glided up my thigh and my breath hitched in my throat at the sensual gesture. I leaned back against the sink and tried to hush my breathing…tried not to moan in pleasure as his fingers trailed over his destination and with expertise, he removed the smaller pistol he had given me from its holster. He handed it to me as the hem of my skirt fell back into place. With a wave of his free hand, he pushed me behind him and we waited.


	11. Truce

**REPOSTED CHAPTER (last repost)**

Chapter 11- Truce

Part of me really hated the fact that he pushed me behind him. How was I supposed to see anything worth shooting? Then again, the other part of me was grateful. I could not imagine that anyone would threaten the home of Hans Landa with the reputation that he had but someone was. They were either very stupid…or very good. I'm not sure which one frightened me more.

"Stay here," he whispered. He gestured towards my pistol. "Don't be afraid to use it."

Without much warning, Hans stepped out of the bathroom and into the hall. The gun fire started. I felt absolutely useless waiting like a sitting duck in the bathroom. I had no idea who these people were or what they wanted. Would they kill me at first sight? Would they torture and interrogate me? Would they be like my attackers? Were they my attackers? Just then I remembered what the one had said... he said they would find me. I was stolen from my reverie as one of the intruders stepped into the door frame. I did not recognize him. I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

I screamed as he clutched a handful of my hair and yanked it backwards. I screamed for Hans.

The man easily knocked my pistol out of my hands and I saw it fling into the hall, leaving a small dent in the lower wall. The man jerked me out of the bathroom and threw me against the same wall. He rammed me up against it and twisted my arms behind my back. I felt perpetually helpless._ Not again. Please not again._ But these men seemed to have no such interest. Their main focus was Hans.

I looked over and saw the first man on the floor leading to the kitchen. His brains had been splayed nicely across the carpet. I looked up to see Hans twist the neck of a second man. I didn't recognize either of them. How many were there? He was still fighting though. I heard gun shots. I heard grunts and heavy breathing. I could only pray that the fight was in his favor as I had my own fight to see out.

The man that held me turned me around to face him and slammed me against the wall again. He was too close for me to get my knee between his legs so I did the first thing I could think of and rammed my forehead into his. He backed up, holding his nose. Apparently I had missed but nonetheless, it as a hit. The adrenaline had kicked in by now and I found myself doing things without thinking...smart things. I didn't waste a second as I ran into Hans's office, the other man hot on my heels. I grabbed the thing I saw- the desk lamp- and pummeled the man's head before wrapping the cord around his throat. I pulled but it still wasn't enough.

He had a gun when he first found me but he didn't have it now. I glanced into the hall to see it setting not far from mine. Without thinking, I lunged for it and emptied every bullet into his body until the gun 'clicked' at my trigger pulls signifying that it was empty.

I sat for only a moment before I realized that the sounds from the other room had ceased. I dropped the weapon in hand and crawled over to mine in order to get a better view of Hans.

The last man who had hit Hans from behind was now towering over him, gun in hand and it was pointing directly at Hans. I grabbed my gun from the floor, stood from my position and raised my weapon, aiming for that man's head. How perfect it all seemed, almost like a twisted fairy tale that I should be the one to save him on this night after he has saved me so many times.

Hans saw me stand and the subtle movement of his eyes must have given me away. The man went to look over his shoulder and I pulled the trigger but the 'bang' I expected never came. Instead, there was a hollow 'click.'

I panicked. I was so confused. I knew the gun was loaded but somehow it misfired or jammed or whatever the technical term was, it failed.

I felt the color drain from my face. I'm certain Hans noticed it too. The man standing over him laughed.

"That's too bad," he said over his shoulder. Then he turned back to Hans and said something that I couldn't hear. Whatever he said, I got the impression that he wasn't able to finish as Hans kicked his feet out from under him. The man lost his balance and I heard a shot blast once more through the house. Then I heard Hans yelp in pain.

But he was not dead. And I doubted that he was injured severely as he continued to wrestle with the other man. The intruder had dropped his weapon but it wasn't completely out of his reach. Hans had him pinned to the ground under his knees. I had never seen him fight so animalistic. Then again, I hadn't really seen him fight at all until tonight.

He had both of his hands wrapped around the stranger's throat. His hair has become unusually disheveled, his face was red and a large vein was protruding from his forehead. The intruder might be strong, but I knew Hans was stronger.

However, it was clear to me that he wouldn't be stronger if the other man could reach his weapon and he did.

I couldn't just stand there and watch Hans struggle. I knew I had to help so I did the only thing I could think of and lunged towards the men myself. I grasped the arm that held the gun but there was no doubt that the man would over power me. I tried my best to stall. If I could keep the weapon away from us long enough for the man to be strangled, we won. The problem was keeping the weapon away.

The man was losing his strength by the second but he was still stronger than me. I let him raise his hand up in the air but as soon as he tried to turn his wrist, I slammed it repeatedly against the brick hearth of the fireplace. Eventually the gun was dropped just out of reach. I kicked it away farther and Hans put every last effort into the force around that man's neck.

It seemed like it took forever as I watched the man's eyes nearly pop out of his head but in reality it was only a matter of seconds. Finally, he stopped breathing.

Hans sat back on his haunches and tried to catch his breath. A sheen of sweat decorated his forehead and as he leaned his head back I took in his beauty. He might not have had the body of a twenty year old but I didn't want him to. He had the body of a man.

We stared at one another for a moment.

"Are you all right?" I asked noticing that the bullet had grazed his arm during the scuffle and had left a bloody gash in its wake.

He nodded and looked down at his arm. A trail of blood running from the wound. "Just a few bumps and bruises," he said with a grin. "Thank you."

"Thank you," I returned and crawled towards him. We had found a middle ground. We had an understanding of one another. We were to take care of one another. We had a truce. Even so, we had more than that. I rose up on my knees, held his head between my hands and began trailing kisses along his hairline.

"What are you doing?" he asked. I could hear the smile in his voice.

I pulled away to look him in the eyes. "Checking for bumps," I said innocently and he grinned. After I felt that his head had been thoroughly checked, I flashed my eyes from his, down to his lips then back again.

"What?" he asked. The nerve of that man. He knew exactly 'what.'

"I suppose I should make sure all of your teeth are still intact," I said, leaning closer. "You took quite a blow to the face, earlier."

His eyes softened and if his grin could become any more wicked, it did as I leaned fully against him and brushed my lips softly against his. He welcomed the contact, and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into him. My fingers trailed to his now unkempt hair and they stayed there, twisting themselves between strands.

Our breathing came in shallow rushes as we quickened the paced. He started to turn us around so that he could be the aggressor but I wouldn't let him get away that easy. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and slowly trailed it along his upper and lower sets of teeth then I pulled away.

"And where did you learn that little trick?" he asked. He seemed quite pleased but I was only going to answer him with another kiss.

Just as we were about to embark on what I imagined would be a heated swapping of saliva, a high-pitched beep came from the kitchen. He wrinkled his brow and I sighed, realizing what it was.

"Well, the turkey is done," I said and he burst into laughter.

I helped him up and we made our way to the kitchen, stepping over bodies on our way. I took care to not dab my bare feet in any of the blood so as to not track it across the house. It would only make for a more tiresome clean up session.

I went to set the table and he came up from behind me, nearly causing me to drop one of the plates. He put his hands on my waist and spun me around, pushing me back towards the counter.

"Hans," I objected but he held a stiff hand to my lips then replaced the hand with his mouth. He easily took my breath away. It was obvious that killing was a turn on to him and it was clear that he was no longer the cold, untamable man that was out of my reach.

As his wide palm began to trail up my spine I began to feel light-headed and clutched on to him for support.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked, trying to stifle a laugh at first. When he saw my face he immediately looked concerned.

"Sorry," I said. "I'm not sure if that was because of your kissing or the blow to the head I received earlier."

"Maybe I should be inspecting your head for bumps," he teased. "Let me see," he said and gently tilted my head down.

I jerked away from his hand as he touched a particularly tender spot at the base of my skull.

"There it is," he said and turned my head for further inspection. "Here, you go ahead and sit. I'll set the table." He pulled out my chair for me and turned back to the oven.

Eating dinner was a surprisingly pleasant event with four dead bodies laying on our floor and him half clothed and bleeding. But somehow, it worked for us. I found that I didn't mind the blood so much. I didn't dare ask him what had just happened. Not yet. I was still trying to process everything in my mind. The intrusion. The kiss. Dr. Kirsch is dead? The energy was electrifying. I was too busy trying to process the information than to try and make sense of it. One thing I knew for sure was that the night had made me hungry and I was going to enjoy this meal with Hans.

**New A/N: Updates will be slower now because this is where the reposting stops and the new material comes in! So excited to finally continue. Hope you all like it so far.**

**Lastly, I have to get something off of my chest and would like input on the matter. In reposting this story, I've been on the site catching up on all the stories I missed. In doing so, I found one story that had a lot of similarities to mine and I'm rather outraged. I know it's only fanfiction and maybe I'm overreacting but as I began reading this other story, the similarities were so striking in some cases that it really angered me. **

**This being said, I'm not saying that we can't all have similarities in our stories because of course they are bound to happen. However, this person's opening chapter was basically Ada's abduction...walking home alone from a grocery store...being confronted by men as it got dark...being cut with a knife on her side/stomach...and then saved by our dear Hans. Granted it is a lot more fast paced from what I've read. Of course, there are differences as well. Now I would hate...HATE to slam anyone else's work so I will try my best not to in saying all of this. **

**To top things off the story was posted right after I stopped updating this one. When I did decide to switch accounts, this story was only off the site for a month or two so it was still present when this other author's story was posted...it was just in the back. In addition, the author made a note apologizing to her readers for not having her main character get pregnant from rape because 'it would be too similar to other stories.' (She ends up pregnant later anyways). Maybe I'm overreacting but in speaking to other writer friends, they assure me I am not. Also, since I removed this story from my last profile, I have no evidence stating that my story was posted first other than readers' memories (In order to file any complaint). **

**I look forward to continuing this story down the same path that I had originally intended which so far as I've read, strays far from this other story (which makes me happy). All the same I am very disheartened and alarmed. I hope after the long break, you all are still with me. Thank you to all of you who have read and reviewed. Truly, thank you.**

**-RejaNuha**


	12. Vacancy

**New chapter!**

**A/N: Enjoy!**

**Katrina- what you vaguely remember might have actually been this story bc I used to have an "un-logged-in" reviewer with your name lol. I don't want to mention the username I used to use b/c the guy who was bothering me is a computer/networking geek so I don't want to say anything that will point towards me.**

Chapter 12- Vacancy

"I like that dress," said Hans from across the table.

I smiled and placed my fork upon my plate, looking down at the red and white polka dot dress. It was one of my favourites too but it needed a desperate cleaning now that there was blood spattered around the hem. I looked back up at Hans and smiled. "Thank you," I said and rose from my chair, intent on cleaning up the table.

I found it hard to believe that despite the mess I had quite an appetite. Hans didn't say much throughout the meal and I was too shocked by the previous events to say much either. I was hoping to piece things together on my own. I wondered if he'd be proud of me then but it was a lot to consider.

I could barely believe him when he whispered his confession over the dinner table that he had been the one to kill Dr. Kirsch. I thought perhaps I had heard him wrong-that I was in a state of delirium. He looked up at me with softness in his eyes and said, "I'll take care of the big mess if you don't mind taking care of my uniform and the dishes by your self tonight?"

It was a question but a simple nod was the only answer I could give him. 'No' was never an option with Hans.

After that night passed, it was as though it were all a dream. There was never any mention of the events that occurred that night. After everything had been cleaned and our wounds bandaged, not a word. Weeks passed and I began to think it truly had been a dream. There was no mention of Dr. Kirsch or my safety being put in jeopardy by any other intruders. My attackers were of course not mentioned and Hans only kissed me on the head or cheek…never the lips…not after that night. I wondered if he did it on purpose to keep me confused- to make me feel like I was losing it. As time passed the line between my thoughts and my reality faded especially in regards to that night.

A month had passed all together since the incident and I was now 2 ½ months pregnant. There were still no major changes, no belly bump but I knew something was in there. Hans continued to take me out to dinner every week but had suggested that we be more social. He insisted that I must crave other intellectual interaction besides him and started taking me to social events a small get-togethers with other high ranking officials and people of stature.

I remember little about these dinners besides feeling alienated. Even though we were out and about, mingling with others they weren't interested in me. Who was I but Hans Landa's servant? I cooked him meals, starched his collar and cleaned his sheets…that was all really. It was as though I was running a hotel strictly for him as there were no other vacancies. Besides, I had nothing to say to these people. I had nothing in common with them. In return, I often tuned out their conversations and let my mind wonder to various things.

I do recall fussing at Hans once, not meaning for the entire table to hear me berate him on how he massacred his food. He had ordered chicken that night and impaled the poor bird over and over with his fork, tearing the meat into strands.

"Hans," I whispered in his direction. "It's dead." I smiled at him knowingly as he looked back at me in shock. The entire table erupted into laughter and I blushed. Hans smiled at this and leaned forward to kiss me on the head. That to me, was the only highlight from those dinners.

I do remember one other occasion that was not so pleasant around this time. An older woman was speaking to Hans and said the words, "I know too many of your former conquests to fall into that honey pot." She looked at me with a wink and a smile and I couldn't help but be angered by the statement. Of course it was stupid to think he wouldn't have been with other women but just how many were there? And how often? _Conquest_. The word left a bitter taste in my mouth and I had spent the rest of the evening in deep thought. He noticed and asked several times if I was all right, sounding genuinely concerned and forcing me to face him so that he could study my features as I nodded in response. This only seemed to make his frown deepen. The trust that was once there was fading again. We both sensed it but where would it lead us?

The next day our routine was normal. Hans went to work and I cleaned, listened to the radio and watched the leaves fall from the trees as I cooked dinner. I had felt funny the night before but attributed it to my grumpiness with Hans and the 'honey pot' comment. As I was cooking, I stood at the corner of the counter and a sharp pain travelled from my head to my toes then seemed to resonate around my stomach, right where it had hit me the night before. I dropped my mixing spoon and clutched the countertop as I slid to the ground. I sat there for a moment, thinking it was just a minor cramp then that I was going to be sick, then that I had a headache. I even thought for a moment that I might die. I knew that stress and emotions could do horrible things but I couldn't imagine what this could be until I felt the moisture between my legs. I pushed my left hand under the hem of my skirt and pressed it against my inner thigh. Lifting it back out slowly, I studied the warm substance covering my palm. I was sickened. To think I had been getting used to the idea of the baby.

When Hans came home that evening I listened quietly from the bathroom. He called out to me, alarm evident in his voice once he reached the kitchen and saw the evidence all over the floor. I heard his footsteps fast approaching. I knew I must've been quite the sight. There I sat, perched on the toilet barefoot and bare bottomed with naught but one of his thermal undershirts covering my torso. I reached out to him with a bloodied hand and began to cry at the sorrow I saw cross his features. He was disappointed too.

He didn't say a word. He walked in, his black boots thudding softly on the tiled floor and removed his leather jacket and gloves. He kneeled down in front of me and rested his head on my thigh and rubbed a hand along my calf as I sobbed. He tried to silence me with gentle humming but other than that, said nothing. I removed his hat as the rim began to dig into my thigh and placed my clean hand in his hair.

"Hans," I began. He looked up. "Does feeling relieved make me a bad person?" I asked through my sobs.

He reached up and wiped away my tears. He shook his head and smiled. "You could never be a bad person," he said.

"You mean to say that I can't be like you." Again, he merely looked at me but said nothing, then dropped his gaze between my legs.

"We'll need a doctor to be sure you are alright and it's not something else," he said, rising to his feet.

"No, Hans," I pleaded. "No more doctors. I don't trust anyone else but the one you saw fit to do away with." I had not meant to yell at him.

He grabbed my shoulders, nearly lifting me from my seat. "I trusted him too," he said in a deep, gruff voice. "But we can't help that. He's gone now."

"Why? Because of you."

"I did what I had to do," he argued.

"But why him? He was your friend was he not? Why did you have to kill him?"

"It's none of your business. Classified."

"Aren't you ever going to let me in?" I asked, defeated.

He loosened his grip on my shoulders and kneeled back down.

"I'm tired of arguing Hans," I said as I leaned forward and rested my head on his shoulder. "I don't want this tension between us. I don't want to argue anymore. I love you."

If he was shocked at all by this statement it did not register in his breathing or in his muscles. He knew. He had always known and infuriating as ever, he did not respond to my liking. I'm glad now that he didn't. "You don't know me," he said.

He pushed me back up and tapped his finger on the tip of my nose before standing and walking out of the room. "I'll call for a doctor," he said from the hall and I heard him pick up the phone on his desk and dial a handful of numbers. The conversation was a mumble. I sobered myself. I thought we had made a deal to be open and trusting of one another? Yet he was still so cold. Two could play that game.

* * *

The next day I waited for Hans to leave for work before I got out of bed. Really nothing out of the ordinary. The night before had been a blur. I had forgotten the new doctor's name as soon as he introduced himself. It was the first and last time I ever saw that man who was significantly older than Kirsch had been and much more feeble. It was confirmed. I had a vacancy inside of me. I still held mixed feelings towards the issue.

In an emotional outrage I decided I was going to leave Hans. I began packing my clothes into the suitcase with haste. However, once noon struck I realized I was starved and in eating a hearty sandwich and thinking things through I decided it would be a stupid move to leave him. I was clearly upset and not thinking straight. He would know where to find me. He knew my house and I'd nowhere else to go with only the 100 spare marcs of his I still had stashed under my mattress. I recall screaming out loud in frustration at being in love with someone I barely knew and who was very confusing in regards to me. I _hated_ it here. Here he was my job and my salvation. My life revolved around Hans Landa and I hated him for it.

After lunch, I took a deep breath and rose from my chair. I retreated back into my room and carefully put everything back in its place. I tucked the suitcase away just as Hans came through the door. I glanced at the clock. 2pm. He was early. For half a second it occurred to me that maybe it wasn't Hans after all so I stood by my door and listened quietly to the sounds in the kitchen.

He was talking to someone but I heard no response. He sounded like he was talking to a child but his footsteps were the only ones I heard. He dropped something on the kitchen floor. I heard the sink run for a bit then another something on the floor..._thats two somethings_, I thought. He placed more somethings on the table and I heard a paper bag being crinkled as he called out to me. I waited silently by my cracked bedroom door. I didn't answer at first because I had been lost in study, feeling as though I was in someone else's house when I shouldn't have been and they suddenly came home. "Yes," I choked out a response.

"Could you come here for a moment?"

I opened the door and walked along the carpet with my bare feet until I reached the kitchen. I looked at Hans who smiled at me. _That smile_. _That infuriating yet charming smile_. _Butt-chinned asshole._

"How are you today?" he asked with open arms. I walked towards him and regretfully fell into them as though I was the opposite end to his magnet. _Magnetism_. He was so warm.

Before I had time to respond or study what he was doing, I saw something small and black run out from under the table and slide across the kitchen floor, crashing into the oven door. I looked to Hans in disbelief and he smiled back with a single nod of the head. I turned back towards the oven door and kneeled.

I'll never forget that moment when he looked up at me. His doe-brown eyes and leathery black nose- the way it twitched as he studied the air. The hair across his chest and on the tip of his tail was honeyed and light in contrast to his black back and paws. His tail wagged so hard as he walked up to me I thought he was going to swing it right off. I picked him up and touched his wet nose to my face.

"Well hello there, mister," I said. "You're so cute." My previous frustrations with Hans went completely out the window. Damn that man. He kneeled beside me and studied the German-Shepherd pup from over my shoulder.

"This is your baby now," he said. "And he'll be good protection when I'm not around. He's got a bit of growing up to do though." Hans chuckled and I felt his breath against the back of my neck. He stood. "I've got to go back to work. I'll be home normal time." He leaned over and kissed my head then was out the door before I could say a word.

I couldn't believe he had purchased a dog. This was like starting a family...this was semi-permanent...right? I was frustrated again. His signals were confusing and I found myself talking out my frustrations with Max.

"Max," I repeated as it had flowed so effortlessly into my frame of mind. "Is that what we'll call you?" He wiggled as I held him close and buried my nose in his fur. The puppy smell was still there. He licked my face with a tongue that was way out of proportion to the rest of his body and I reeled back at the smell. "Puppy breath too, I see."

I stood with Max in my arms and saw the items on the table. There was a collar, tags, a leash, a bag of food and a chew toy. That man never forgot a thing. I was still angry though and in my shock over the puppy could hardly say anything when he was there. What did he mean after all by 'when I'm not around?' Did he simply mean for when he was at work or when he wasn't around for good?

Max was a healthy distraction for the rest of the day and I kept dinner simple as I had devised a plan to get a little more out of Hans this time around. There would be no escaping this. The man loved games and surely he wouldn't turn down playing one with me...

**A/N: Phew! Been a long time coming, I know! TY for 1300 hits!**

**I am trying my best to put the issue with the other fic behind me. I forced myself through the first three chapters of that story and found more similarities to my story. When I say similarities I don't mean slight familiarities, I mean things are the same –dead on. So far though, it appears that she has strayed from my plot in later chapters. So really what can I do? **

**Some of you have said to me that my story line is common but until I came across that one, I had never seen another one like it so I don't know what you guys are reading. And like I said, I know it's fanfiction but as an aspiring writer who studied literature in college, the thought of having my images and ideas mirrored in some high schooler's fantasy disgusts and appalls me. Anyway, on to more writing!**


	13. I Never

Chapter 13- "I Never"

Max was sleeping when Hans came home that evening. I had prepared a simple dinner and afterwards Hans helped me clean. I no longer felt like we were a team though. I asked him to have a seat at the table afterwards and he looked at me with suspicion. He puffed his cigarette and tentatively took his usual seat at the table. I bent down to one of the cabinets and lifted out an old bottle of gin. I grabbed two small glasses from one of the higher cupboards and wiggled the bottle back and forth in my hand as I placed the glasses on the table.

His eyebrows raised as he watched me with interest. "What is this?" he asked, regarding the bottle with amusement in his eyes. I opened the bottle and poured a small amount in both of the glasses. I slid one sharply across the table towards him. He caught it with surprising grace.

"I want to play a game," I said.

"A drinking game?"

"Doesn't it look that way?"

"I just didn't think you were much for games, Ada. Perhaps I was wrong," he said with a glint in his eyes.

"What are the rules?" he asked as I took my seat.

"It's called 'I never.' I say something along the lines of 'I've never riden in a hot air balloon.' If you've riden in one you empty your glass, but if you havn't then you don't drink. I'll go first," I said. He nodded in response, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I've never lived with anyone who wasn't family before you," I said.

Hans tilted his head back and emptied his glass. I smiled and slid the bottle across the table towards him so he could refill his glass. He put the bottle down then thought for a moment- a moment that seemed like forever.

"I've never worn purple," he said with a satisfied smile.

I huffed then emptied my glass. "Hans you have to be more creative than that. You can't just keep saying things like 'I've never worn high heels or worn a dress because that's obvious. The point is to ask questions you want to know the truthful answer to. Surely there must be something about me that you don't know." _He can't know everything_.

Hans nodded but it was my turn. "I've never been married," I said.

Hans looked at me and smiled, never breaking the eye contact. His glass stayed firmly on the table. His fingers danced along the rim, teasing me but he never moved the glass an inch. _Interesting_.

"I've never killed someone and felt disgusted with myself afterwards," he said. I thought about drinking. I put my hand on the glass but if I wanted him to be honest, I had to be as well. I let my fingers fall from the edges of the glass and left it sitting on the table, still filled with alcohol. His smile widened and the hint of a chuckle resonated in his chest.

"I've never had a one night stand," I said. I don't know why I expected differently as he tilted his head back again and emptied his glass.

"Do I have to drink for each one?" he asked with a joking glint in his eyes.

"No," I said more meakly than I had hoped for.

Hans loosened his tie. "I've never taken secret delight when sexually tortured," he said, straight faced. He may have thought he knew me but he had gone to far. I did not drink and for a moment I thought I saw surprise cross his features but it was only a moment. He had gone too far for my taste. Did he really think that I enjoyed that?

"I've never gotten off on making others miserable," I said. The bastard emptied his glass.

"I've never been prone to taking an attitude with figures of authority," he said. Now he was deliberately trying to piss me off. At first I thought the sexual comment was just an honest accident. If he hadn't caught on before, he knew exactly what I was up to now and my guess was that he didn't like it. The elusive Hans Landa didn't want to be understood or known. If making me angry didn't work, he'd try some other way to end the game.

It was my turn to tilt my head back and drink proudly. After all, I didn't have a problem with authority. I just had a problem with his.

"I've never considered myself controlling or manipulative," I said, not thinking too much about what the wording meant. The asshole didn't drink and seemed satisfied at my annoyance.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I've never thought of myself that way. Just because you do..."

I involuntarily grunted in protest.

"I've never seen a woman look so beautiful when she is peeved by me," he said and looked back with more sincerity in his eyes than I had ever seen. _What the fuck_. I was even surprised at my own thought, so much so that I gasped aloud.

Hans wasn't cute when he was angry. He was outright scary and the way he phrased it I couldn't really respond because I don't think I'd ever had a woman angry with me and if so I wouldn't even think to call her attractive. _No._ He rose from his chair and walked towards my side of the table. _The game can't be over. There was so much more I was prepared to ask and he was snaking his way out of revealing anything._

He offered his hand. A bit shocked by what he had said, I took it without much thought and stood. He lead me silently into the den and I stood by him as he pulled a record from the cabinet under the radio and placed it on phonograph near the back door. In those short seconds I studied him and spotted the weapon on his hip. It had dawned on me that he never fixed my gun or gave me a replacement since that wild night weeks ago. Was the trust _that_ gone? Did he think I was going to hurt him?

I cast my eyes down towards the floor as he turned back to me. He wrapped a strong arm around my lower back and pulled me close. Automatically my right arm went to his shoulder as he took my left hand in his and began to sway me gently. He used our interlocked fingers to lift my chin so that I would look at him. Once he was satisfied with what he saw he allowed me to rest my head on his shoulder. I was instantly calm. I hated him for it.

I recognized the first song from the early thirties, before the war started. It was in English. I became lost in my thoughts as I listened silently to the words.

_Have you ever seen a dream walking? Well I did._

_Have you ever seen a dream talking? Well I did._

_Did you ever have a dream thrill you with 'Will you be mine?'_

_Oh it's so grand and it's too too divine._

_Did you ever see a dream dancing? Well I did._

_Did you ever see a dream romancing? Well I did._

_Did you ever see Heaven right here in your arms, saying 'I love you, I do?'_

_Well the dream that was walking and the dream that was talking and the Heaven in my arms is you._

A deep chuckle that shook his chest brought me out of my reverie and I realized what he was laughing about. I had taken to a decoration on his field coat and was tracing it with my fingers unknowingly. I looked up at him and his eyes twinkled.

"What do they all mean?" I asked suddenly, letting my eyes roam across his medals and pins.

He started at his sleeves and pointed out the Old Campainer's Chevron and the SD diamond. From there he trailed up to his right breast pocket, and explained to me the 'Blood Order' decoration just underneath the button on the flap. Then he moved to the decorations on his left breast pocket, the ones that were just over his heart.

He explained the bar above it first, pointing at each individual one with my fingers still interwined in his. There was a War Merit Cross 2nd class, his NSDAP Long Service Awards for 1st and 2nd class and a medal for German Social Warfare. On his left pocket flap he traced his figners along the Golden Party Badge then trailed our hands down to the SS Germanic Proficiency Rune, Anti-Partisan Warfare Badge and the War Merit Cross- 1st class.

He had briefly explained what each of them meant but I tuned in and out of his speech. His voice was so memerising and that childlike glint in his eyes that revealed his excitement, captivated me. I was never a huge military person even though it seemed to run in my family. It was like reading music to me- something that would be nice to understand but something I didn't. I looked him in the eyes as he spoke. As he finished, I rested my head back on his chest. Perhaps part of it was the alcohol even though I hadn't had much, I wasn't used to it and I had downed it rather fast.

Before I really thought about what I was saying or doing, I found myself tracing his medals with my other hand then I looked back up at him, out faces only a breath apart.

"I'm very proud of you, Hans," I said. He seemed shocked by this knowledge. "I know I might not always support what you do nor do I really want to know what you're up to during the days you aren't here with me regardless I am so very proud of you." I don't know where it came from but it was true and I started to tear up at the admission. He held me closer and smiled- a rare but true and genuine smile from Hans Landa. He was grateful after all.

"You're a good man, Hans Landa," I said brushing my fingers against his cheek. "And when you do something you see to it that its done right, regardless of what others think. You know I've heard stories about you and how you could be this terrible monster or even the Devil himself, but I see so much more in you, Hans. You work hard and are good at what you do. You're heart is in your work. I admire you for that."

I knew I was speaking to him from my heart, openly and completely for the first time since we'd met but I also knew that though it was true, I would eventually leave him. It might not make sense at this moment to anyone else but me but I knew that I wasn't happy there. Hans wasn't enough.

I was practically a bird in a cage. I didn't belong here. This was not me. This was not my world. I wasn't supposed to be the girl who stayed at home all day, cooking, cleaning and tending to someone else. My life revolved around him but this was not the life I wanted. What was I getting out of this relationship with him? Pain? Misery? Anger? Nothing good.

Hans would no doubt make me feel guilty if I ever voiced this to him. He'd say I'd gotten clothes, fresh food, a warm bed, safety... Max.

Max. It's amazing how within a few hours someone or rather, something could become your best friend. I could tell Max everything and he wouldn't judge. He instantly loved me.

After a bout of silence Hans started to speak and seemed to choose his words with caution. "There is an event," he said, "a dinner this Saturday. It's rather large. A lot of officer's and soldier's families will be there. It's a ceremony for us so we recognize all that we have accomplished so far in this war. I'd like you to accompany me."

"I don't have anything to wear," I said stupidly.

"Wear the yellow dress. You don't wear it enough." That was all he said and like that the conversation was over.

I would make this my last hurrah. I would go with him and hang off of his arm just this once more and then I would leave. The longer I waited the more painful it would be but I no longer needed him. The baby was gone and no longer some impending doom. I would take the 100 marcs I had hidden under my mattress, pack a small bag for Max and I and leave while he was at work. My mind was made.

I doubt he would suspect anything but I had to think things through. Where would I go? How would I hide? What would I say should he catch me leaving or find me elsewhere? Today was Wednesday. I had until Saturday to make everything final.

He was using me after all wasn't he? He only kept me around in the beginning for his safety... because his name was on my stomach- or so he said. How convenient that I was so willing to take care of his stomach and his laundry yet he never asked for other favors. My injuries were healed now and I wondered why he still hadn't thought to make an advance.

"You're mad at me," he said plainly. "Ada, I see no harm in escorting a beautiful young woman as I've done many a time before with you." He looked too persuasive, like a child covering for something.

"You look so innocent," I said.

"I am innocent."

"Ha," I retorted towards his lopsided grin.

"If I am guilty, I am guilty of being swept away by your charm," he teased.

I rolled my eyes. I could never be sure what he was really thinking. He was so good at acting. Without much more thought on the topic, I stretched up on my tip toes and brought our lips together. He did not hesitate to respond but before things became too firey he pulled back.

"What's wrong?" I asked. Didn't he want me? Was I not mature enough or pretty enough? What was the problem? He was a man. I was a woman. He must need some release...

His expression sobered. "I didn't expect any of this to happen you know," he said.

"Any of what to happen?"

"Falling in love," he said. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Does this mean you've fallen in love with me?" I asked but he gave no clear response.

"Ada, if I hurt you you will never forgive me," he said, gripping my shoulders tight.

"The cream healed everything," I said. "It stopped stinging. I'm ready," I insisted but still he held me back.

"Cream can't heal emotions or erase memories," he said. "Are you mentally healed? That kind of healing takes more time."

Damn him for always being right. I did want him, but what would I want if I felt a man on top of me again? Would the thoughts come flooding back? Would I try and fight him? "We won't find out if we try," I suggested meakly.

He smiled, knowing he was right and had gotten to me.

"I want to," he said. "But I don't want you to hate me."

At times, I was certain that was all he wanted. All I could do was nod and hope that possibly before this weekend he would change his mind. I couldn't believe it...as flirtatious and seductive he had been while he knew we couldn't because of my injuries...now I was fine and he turned me down? It didn't make sense. It didn't feel like the Hans I knew, the one he had shown me.

Perhaps Saturday night, if I charmed him enough, his mind would change. When we retired that night I had expected him to ask me to stay with him and was disappointed when he did not. I couldn't take much more of his games, being toyed with did not make me happy. I still had my doubts though. Was he hiding something? Is he afraid of me? Of us? Of children, possibly?


	14. A Temporary Weakness

**A/N: Even though I have this story mapped out I feel like the quality is suffering because my heart isn't in it as it was last year. I apologize for this. Furthermore, I hope that some of you are particpating in NaNoWriMo this year! I'm sitting at just over 5k words and hope to reach at least 8k by midnight. Wish me luck!**

Chapter 14- Temporary Weakness

I did everything I could think of in preparation for Saturday night. I was excited to be on the arm of Hans but I was also excited to get my life back to normal. I'd like to think of this stint in my life as a temporary weakness but a necessary one at that. I'd miss Hans but until our situation changed, I refused to be locked inside and making his every wish a command.

Friday night I sat on the edge of my bed, replaying everything in my mind. _Where would I go?_ The map on Han's desk marked where the basterds' scalping had began again. They weren't far from where he found me. That was an area I wished to avoid anyway. Regensburg came to mind. Hans might find me easily there and part of me wanted him to…_would he care enough to come look for me?_ All the same it was a busy city and perhaps I could avoid his detection. I went to sleep that night with many thoughts involving Hans- some pleasant and others not but I would not chicken out this time. I would not fold nor bend to his will.

Saturday night approached much too quickly for my liking. I had carefully decided upon everything that I would take with me when I left. I feared that by packing them too early he would notice. I didn't want him to come into my room and notice something missing like a book or a favourite article of clothing so I would wait until he walked out the door on Sunday, grab the few things I needed along with Max and that would be it. I would pack everything for Max- his toy, his bowls, his food but for me I would pack Dante's Inferno, one of Han's shirts, two spare sets of clothing and something small food wise like bread or a few apples.

He had gone out again that day. How frustrating and tiresome it must be to work a job where you don't necessarily have the weekends off or much time off at all for that matter. I spent the day pruning myself instead of slaving over a stove or cleaning the house. Max, like a newborn baby, was still puppy enough to need to go outside once every three hours then spend the rest of the day sleeping so I was able to focus on myself. I tweezed my eyebrows to perfection, spending more than 20 minutes in front of the mirror for that simple task. I didn't want a hair out of place tonight…not until we got home, that is. My nails were filed smoothly and shined with a coating of clear lacquer. I slipped into the yellow dress and wondered if he wasn't making my task easier by choosing this dress. I have to admit it was never my favourite but it looked nice. Hopefully it would lead him into my arms if only for one night.

_I wouldn't be his conquest. He would be mine. _

I wore my hair up for the first time since the day Hans and I met, making sure to expose my dainty neck and highlighting it with loose strands of hair I had purposefully separated to frame my face. I had been experimenting with makeup all week while he was out, perfecting the look so that I knew what to do to make it just right. I played up the eyes, pinkened the lips and cheeks ever so slightly and made sure to add a spritz of perfume, something I hardly ever wore. The final touch was jewelry and I kept it simple.

I stepped back and looked in the mirror once I considered everything 'done' and was amazed how it looked when it all came together. I was afraid though that this beauty had a time limit and the longer I had to wait for him, the more it would fade from wear. It was hard to keep myself away from the mirror while waiting another 30 minutes for him to come home and quickly change. I heard him come in but did not emerge from my room. I didn't want him to see me until it was time to go.

He tapped on my door gently. "Be ready in 15." Then I heard him walk away, towards the washroom.

Dragging myself from the mirror, I waited for him in the kitchen with my purse on the table and my jacket draped across my folded arms. When I heard him approaching, I turned so that my back was to him. I wanted to relish the moment he saw my face. I had never on any occasion or outing with him (nor in my life) put so much effort into looking so fashionable. He turned me around and offered to put my coat on for me. He didn't say anything but that's all I needed. I took his silence as a victory and told him how nice he looked in return to his amazed stare. He smiled and escorted me out of the house.

The car ride was far more eventful than I had ever imagined it would be. He sat unusually close to me. Instead of staring ahead or out the window his gaze stayed on me the entire time. I think he was purposefully trying to make me feel uncomfortable but it only made the heat escalate in the car. We had to keep things to ourselves unfortunately. After all I didn't want to subject the poor driver- _what was his name again?- t_o anything too extreme.

I made sure that when I crossed my legs, my knee was exposed and though I thought it a simple tease he did not hesitate to lay his hand upon my leg and allow it to run up my thigh. I shivered at the warm contact and automatically turned towards him, gripping his jacket. He moved his free hand to my bare neck and trailed it over my exposed collarbone, tickling ever so slightly. It was a brief moment but one I'll never forget, feeling his breath against my mouth. The kiss was as impassioned as our first and I did not hesitate to run my tongue along his teeth again. Much to my chagrin, the car stopped just then and Hans pulled away, stepping out and offering me his warm hand. _Silent victory #2._

I never thought in all my life I'd ever get the chance to walk on a red carpet but I did as Hans escorted me inside the Ritz. It was the most beautiful place I'd ever set eyes on. The place was alive that night, warm and intimate. There were grand chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. The regal walls were painted cream and there were large windows framed with deep red curtains. Classical paintings adorned the walls and there were wide mirrors that stretched the height of the room. The round tables that were scattered about were adorned with red and black clothes. I'm sure I stood out like a sore thumb in my bright yellow dress, like a flower in winter, and it was exactly what he had wanted.

Hans introduced me to a few of the military couples but somehow the women and men split and I found myself mixing and mingling on my own with some of the officer's wives and daughters. At least some of them I assumed were daughters but Hans himself was far older than I was. Perhaps they were wives as well.

Even from across the room his presence was so demanding. I studied him between the crowds from afar and caught him looking back at me at times. We would exchange smiles and perhaps he'd wink then go back to his present conversation. What made my knees almost buckle was the sight of him standing by himself, leaning against a column and looking at me, only me from across the room. Just how long had he been doing that, I wondered.

I realized that he was wearing a uniform I'd never seen before. His lopsided grin remained plastered on his face as he watched me study him from head to toe. It was a grey uniform and he wore a white shirt underneath as opposed to the mustard coloured one that I favoured so much. There was a gold medal hanging over his tie at the collar that I had never seen before and I made a note to ask him about it later…later when I was hopefully undressing him. I would go to just about any length to get him there tonight.

The mere idea of leaving him and getting my old life back had surged inside of me and suddenly put me back to being myself for the first time in a long time. I used to be more fun and flirtatious. Once again, this whole incident was just an interruption- a temporary weakness.

All of a sudden, I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and I couldn't stop it from registering on my face. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hans rise from his leaning position on the column and come towards me.

"What is it?" he asked and I felt as though the very breath had been driven from my lungs, my heart started to pound uncontrollably.

"I feel like someone just walked over my grave," I said and he frowned. "I'm all right," I assured him and pushed his hands away gently. I looked around the room to find the door. Some fresh air might be good. However, in my search I caught on to something familiar. I don't know what it was at first, a familiar voice perhaps or just a familiar presence. A taller soldier caught my eye and I noticed the faint trace of a scar on his left cheek where he had been scratched by what looked like human hands…with dire force.

That voice…that face…standing meters in front of me in a Nazi uniform, was one of my attackers.

The ringing sound that raced through my ears when Hans first walked me down the hall to Dr. Kirsch's office returned. It was in that moment that I felt my heart shatter. I felt a cold sweat forming upon my brow and the nape of my neck. I had to get into the fresh air fast and I most certainly did not plan on coming back here.

I found the door we had entered through and didn't bother to see if Hans was following me or not. On my way to the door I spotted two other familiar faces and I could only suspect that there were more. _Germans. I had been betrayed by my own people. _I ran out of the Ritz thankful to feel the crisp night air upon my face. It wasn't cold enough though to cool me down. Running in heals never seemed easier as I was driven by my emotions to run away from those people. I only made it about a block or two before I rounded the corner to an empty street and heaved the substance in my stomach. I stood there for a moment clutching the side of a building, making sure that all the insides that were going to come out where out before I stood. I would just hate to ruin Hans's favourite dress…

_Hans._

"Ada?" I heard from behind me and felt a strong hand on my shoulder.

"Don't you touch me," I yelled as I turned towards him.

He took a step back. I didn't even recognize the voice that erupted from my body. He recovered and stepped forward to grab me again. I'm not sure who was more surprised by my strength. I wiggled my wrist out of his grasp and shoved him away.

"I said don't touch me." We stood there for a moment each waiting to see who would do what next. My mind was racing. "You knew? You knew? You knew." I said it three times, accusingly, disbelievingly and the latter being a statement. He knew. "How long have you known? Answer me!"

I think more often than not that my tone is what startled the honesty from his lips. "6 weeks to 2 months," he stammered out.

My emotions were a mixture of sorrow and rage. I didn't know which to show.

"How dare you," was all I could muster. There were no words to explain my anger or grief. What could I possibly say to him now? "How dare you let me love you. No. How dare you let me fall in love with you." He took steps towards me again and I backed away.

"How about now, Hans? Do I look beautiful now that you have me angry with you?" I asked, mocking his claims from earlier this week.

"Always," he said.

"Your charm is dead to me," I said. I wanted to tell him never to look at me again, to not find me or force me to look at him but even in my unfit state of mind I couldn't say those things. Instead I chose to turn my back on him and walk away. "You will not sweet talk your way out of this one, Hans."

"Where are you going?" he called but as I turned I saw that he had not followed. He had not moved an inch, just as I had silently requested.

"Away from you," I said.

"You aren't thinking clearly, Ada."

"I'm not angry with you, Hans," I said, turning towards him. He seemed surprised. "I'm livid. I had a temporary weakness and you were there to strengthen me up but in doing so you also knocked me down so far that I couldn't stand it. Did you hear what I said? The weakness you saw in me was temporary. In my state no man down a dark alley would dare mess with me."

It was tragic. I was saddened by the raw expressions on his face. Hans didn't show expressions often and when he did they were always guarded. There was no lie in his eyes and he may have wanted to follow me but we both knew he couldn't leave. He had to stay and let me go, at least for a little while. He had to stay because it was his duty. And just like the cage I felt that he had ensnared me in, he was inside his own cage, one provided for by his country and was not free to follow me as I walked away from him and into the cold night.


	15. Becoming Ada

**A/N: NaNoWriMo is over! Thank you all for being so patient with me this month. Here is the chapter I've wanted to write for over a year now. This whole story was basically written for this scene. **

Chapter 15- Becoming Ada

I felt the need to duck into the shadows at the passing of every car. I'm certain I stood out in my bright yellow dress and half wondered if he had picked it on purpose. Hans Landa probably didn't experience many surprises in his life but I was over thinking. My mind raced and my adrenaline was still pumping all the way back to the house. I tried to make the journey quick.

I used my spare key to get inside. Max came around the corner to greet me and stretched. I picked him up and carried him into my bedroom while trying to undress at the same time.

I grabbed my suitcase and threw it onto the bed. I dressed in a simple shirt and slacks that were plain in colour while packing another set of clothing into my suitcase. Along with my makeup and other personal effects, I took my copy of Dante's Inferno and walked into the kitchen to stuff all of Max's belongings into the case as well. Lastly, I took the only loaf of bread we had in the house and jammed it inside. I went back into my room and set a towel on the bottom of a small leather bag and picked Max up to sit him inside. He objected a little to being zipped inside the dark bag but I left a small hole for his nose to peek through.

I stood for a moment and looked in the mirror. I was really going to do this. After all, what other choice did I have? I realized then that I had no idea where I was going or what I would do. A map would be the best thing to take with me and a weapon or two couldn't hurt.

I ran into Hans' office and frantically began to search his desk. I shuffled through the papers and drawers looking for anything. In the top center drawer was the map I had seen earlier. It was folded neatly and stuffed under a book. The Basterds appeared to be on the move again and the last place he had marked was in the country- Nancy- near where Hans had found me.

It was then that the devilish idea came to me and I decided that more than one weapon might be needed. I stuffed the map into my pocket and searched the rest of his room for a gun and some ammunition. The man had to have a stash somewhere but I could find nothing.

I was distracted suddenly by the headlights that poured in through his office window. I watched as they danced across the wall then I panicked as I heard a car door slam shut.

I ran back into my room and opened the window. The front door opened and I scolded myself for not locking it to delay him or whoever was coming to retrieve me. I grabbed the suitcase and the leather bag with Max and set them both outside then crawled through myself. I shut the window with as much force as I could without making too much noise but it became stuck at the last two inches or so and would not budge.

If Hans saw the window open he would know. His footsteps could be heard coming down the hall towards my room and I heard him calling for me. Seeing his shadow on the opposite wall, I froze. I did not realize I was holding my breath. I ducked out of sight and stayed there; squatting below the window, holding my belongings to me and hoping Max would stay quiet.

I could hear him looking around my room. His steps were slow. _I'm going to get caught. I always get caught. I'll never escape him._

I let out a sigh of relief as I heard his steps retreat but I heard two other voices outside. Two men were talking and circling around the other side of the house. I did not linger a moment longer. I picked up my things and tried my best to stay low and keep to the shadows of night as I walked into our neighbor's yard then into their neighbor's yard until I hit a crossroad.

Still, with every car that drove near, my blood would freeze and my heart would stop in my chest. I did not expect him so soon at the house. I did not want any surprises. I tried to think of a place I could stay but I did not know anyone who would not place me straight back into his hands. If I was going to carry out my plan, I had to do it quickly because if he had been keeping as close of an eye on the Basterds as the map in my pocket suggested, then it would not be long before he realized it was missing.

I walked for over an hour and studied the familiar streets I found myself on. I had never gotten a good look at them at night. There were few Nazis left roaming these streets. They were quite empty and the traffic was little at this hour. I saw an empty motorcycle with a side car sitting near one curb and just behind it another empty Nazi vehicle. There were other cars on nearby side streets. A lot of them were staying here at the moment. It was a risky destination but the only one that came to mind.

I knocked lightly on the door in front of me, standing on the front mat. I did not wish to wake her but I saw the faint light in the uppermost window and thought perhaps that she was still awake. I knocked again, getting anxious as a car or two passed. The last thing I wanted was to look suspicious and draw attention to myself.

I heard the soft patter of feet against the floor and the blind that covered the door window shifted. I hoped that in the street lights she could see my face.

"Mrs. Schafer?"

She cracked the door open at my voice and peered outside. "Are you alone?" she asked.

I nodded and she waved me inside, shutting the door behind me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know where else to go. I tried to think of a place he wouldn't."

"Good luck," she said, knowing exactly of whom I was speaking.

"I was afraid you wouldn't remember me."

"The meek, half-dressed little shrimp of a thing under the wing of the Jew Hunter? Ha. You've even been in the papers, dear," she said, while sifting through an old stack and pulling out an old issue. She handed it to me and walked further into her shop.

I looked at the front page and saw a picture of Hans. There was an article on his success out in the country but in the bottom corner was a picture of us together. It was the first night he had taken me out and a small mention of us being engaged caught my eye. "Ugh," I said slamming the paper back down on the stack. I took one more look down at that picture of us. We both looked happy. If only I knew at that moment what I knew at Ms. Schafer's that night. "The horrid rumors the media starts."

Ms. Schafer's chuckled. "Am I to believe you aren't engaged? That isn't the only article written about your dear Colonel."

"Please don't call him mine or dear," I said. "He is neither. And I do not wish to talk anymore about him. Forgive me, Ms. Schafer, but informing you on what happened would give you knowledge that he could easily use against you... should he come asking questions."

"He will," she said. "Hans Landa is a man full of questions and he never lets them escape without answers. If you have not come here to seek solace then what have you come here for at this hour?"

"Just a warm place for the night. I will leave before dawn," I said at first. "But I was wondering if perhaps I could make use of your tailoring skills again, if it is not too much to ask?" She stepped towards me hesitantly and nodded for me to continue with my request. "A Nazi uniform," I said and she seemed astonished. "And not a female one. I want to look like a man."

After little convincing, she agreed to honor my request but needed my help to have it all done by dawn. She asked me no questions and guided me on how to hem a pair of pants and take them in at the waist. That was my only task. She fitted me for shoes and a hat, handed me a tie and belt and spent the rest of the night tailoring a white dress shirt and a dark coat. I did not ask where the uniforms had come from as I imagined that she was one of the many tailors who were kept in business due to the need for Nazi uniforms.

We worked through the night and I fed Max his breakfast just as we were finishing. The poor pup had an accident on the towel in the leather bag but Ms. Schafer was kind enough to give him a new one.

Just before I left, I donned the uniform and looked in the mirror. As long as I kept the hat on, I could pass for a Gestapo and that was all I really needed. Ms. Schafer looked at my reflection from over my shoulder and smiled. I turned to hug her and thank her. "Take care, child," she said and placed a large pistol in my hands. I grabbed my things, putting a grumpy Max back into his bag and slipped through her back door into the dark alleyway.

The Nazi vehicles were still empty along the streets and I spied that motorcycle with the sidecar. I had helped work on these vehicles. I had helped build them and service them and I certainly knew how to hotwire the engines. I stuffed my suitcase in the sidecar and strapped Max's bag into the seat so he wouldn't be shifted about too much. I climbed on the other side and started the vehicle, speeding off towards Nancy so I could walk down that country road once more.

I did not have enough gas to carry me all the way to my former prison but I refused to stop somewhere and chance being seen by the wrong person. I rode until the motorcycle sputtered to a halt. I was on the country road. It hadn't taken as long as I had expected but part of me was dreading this encounter. I propped the bike behind some bushes and pulled the gun Ms. Schafer had given me out of my pocket, making sure it was loaded. I kissed Max goodbye and wondered if the poor thing would miss me.

It had only been a few days but I had grown so attached to the innocent pup. I wondered for a moment if perhaps Landa felt that way about me. I promised Max I would be back and leashed him to the motorcycle so that he could be out and about while I was away. I set his food bowl down and poured what was left of the water into a separate container for him. He would be fine in the shade. If I died in there, surely someone would find him in the search for the stolen Nazi motorcycle.

I stood and stared at the road before me. Never did I think I would travel it again, especially in this direction. There was no turning back now. I walked for hours, through the morning and evening. Just as night fell, I could see the silhouette of the tree line by the glow of the stars. As I approached the woods, a brief flashes of memory came back but nothing substantial. There were a few dim lights in the distance and I walked towards them, keeping my right hand in my pocket, gripping the gun.

The house was not as buried into the woods as I had originally thought but I got a much better picture of it now, even in the dark. It was a two story brick house. It looked rather normal other than the fact that it was in the middle of nowhere. I walked up the small set of steps and knocked on the door, lowering my head so only my hat could be seen from the peephole. The door creaked open, only a crack then the person who opened it walked away. _Success._

I knew I would have to be fast. The gunfire would be loud and I wouldn't have much time to think about what I was doing. If I wanted to make it out alive, I couldn't stop once I started and not knowing the layout of the house would hinder my speed. I stared at the back of the guy's head. Knowing who and what they all were now, I had no regret in pulling my gun out and aiming steadily as I walked behind him. When I pulled the trigger, the gunfire resounded through the entire house and could have probably been heard throughout the entire forest.

This was it. _1 down_.

I bent down and searched his body for any other weapons. _Success. _He had a pistol on him. I had never before fired a gun with my left hand but now was as good a time as any to learn.

Suddenly a nearby room lit up and I heard three distinct voices from within. I listened carefully from around the corner.

"This better not be happening again."

"If it is, I doubt this one has made it far. That last girl got away by mere luck."

"That was months ago."

"Yea and she was with Landa." The speaker sounded nervous. "If he found out what we did to his property-"

"Are you stupid? They weren't together until after she got away. She wasn't his wife."

"How can you be sure? He's a private man."

"You think he doesn't know about us? We'd be dead already if she was his wife."

"You are dead already," I said as I stepped out of the shadows.

"What the fuck?" _2. 3. 4._

It was then that I heard another pop and felt a sharp sting in my left arm. I cried out and turned. _5._

There was a scurry of heavy footsteps on the second floor. I dowsed the lights in the room and stood near the base of the steps, waiting.

They came down slowly, trying not to make any sounds as they descended. I pushed myself against the wall and stayed quiet and still. I watched two of them pass by and another two stayed on the steps, right next to me. I shot them first since they were at pointe blank but then the lights were flicked on inside the room. I lunged behind a table as they opened fire. They wasted all of their bullets and clumsily tried to reload. _Bingo. 6. 7. 8. 9._

I turned the lights back off and scurried around in the darkness for new weapons and more ammo. They were making this too easy but I did not want to jinx myself. I ascended the stairs as slowly and silently as possible. If they were smart, they would have others waiting up here. I thought maybe I should simply wait them out downstairs. They would have to come down eventually but I was exhausted. It had been an emotional week and sleep had been sparse the last few days. This needed to be over whether by my end or theirs.

I tried my best to ignore the sting in my arm as I was near the top of the steps. Just as I reached the landing, the lights came on but I saw no one. I panicked. I ignorantly opened the first door I saw and slipped inside.

It was a dark cell, much like my own had been and inside was a young girl. She trembled in the corner with her knees drawn to her chest. She didn't dare look up at me. I walked towards her and put my hand on her arm.

"How many are in this house?" I asked.

She looked up at me slowly. "There are around twenty at night," she said.

"No. I meant girls. How many more of you are there?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I thought I was alone."

"No. You're not." I helped her stand and guided her towards the door. "Go straight down the steps. Don't stop for anything. The path to the front door should be clear."

She nodded and whispered, "Thank you," as I pulled her out the door after me and pushed her towards the steps. I went into the other rooms and found more girls. I released them all and just as I was beginning to feel safe, I rounded the corner and found at least six tired Nazis staring back at me.

The question of who my attackers were had been answered but more had developed. Why me? I did not react at first. I merely stared back and they lowered their weapons, looking at me with an odd expression. I had forgotten about what I was wearing and what I must look like to them. My hat created a heavy shadow that shielded half of my face. It took a moment for me to realize that they thought I was one of them. I took their confusion to my advantage because I doubted I would ever be this lucky again. I opened fire first but could not kill them all before they began to retaliate. Two went down. _10. 11_. One was wounded by the time they fired back. I felt another bullet enter my left shoulder and a third graze my right ear before I ducked back into the main hall.

I made a lot of noise when I ran back down the steps, not thinking whether there could still be people down there. I waited in the dark at the bottom of the steps and killed another one _12. _but I was feeling extremely weak. My left arm and shoulder were bleeding quite a bit and I had no means to even bandage them unless I could clear the house completely. I moved away from the stairs and walked towards the front door, cracking it a little farther. Then I stepped into a nearby room. One of them took the bait and descended the stairs. Thinking I had run for the door, he ran towards it. _13. _The other two were smarter. I heard them come down the steps but did not hear them move elsewhere. If they were on the move, I should be too.

The coldest light of dawn could be seen through the trees when I glanced out the front door. It wouldn't be long before the front of the house was lit with sunlight, as the rest of the windows were blacked out with boards and paint.

As I made my way around the lower floor, I heard two or three more men enter the house from the front door.

"Oh my God."

"What the fuck?"

They went silent and I heard their pistols click as they readied their weapons. Part of me wondered if these newcomers had seen my motorbike or Max. I really wanted Max to be alive and well when I was able to get back… _if_ I was able to get back.

One of the new idiots gave themselves away by opening the doors to the rooms downstairs where more girls were kept…where I had been kept. I peered down the hall and aimed my gun just as the two Nazis from upstairs must've gotten the same idea. In the dark, a person opening those doors would have seemed to them to have been me since I was doing that same thing upstairs not a moment beforehand.

There were a series of shots but I never once fired my gun that time. The five Nazis left had taken each other out. _14. 15. 16. 17._ 18. As far as I knew, the house was now empty. I searched the rooms and released all of the girls I could find. There were no words between us.

I looked towards the open front door. The sun was shining through the trees as it rose over the hidden horizon. I had made it through the night. I stepped outside and breathed in the fresh air, ignoring the pain from my wounds. I closed my eyes and took off my hat, letting my hair fall.

A twig snapped off to the side and my head turned quickly in the direction of the sound. To both my right and left were several men dressed in drab shades of green and brown. They carried with them heavy automatic weapons except one who seemed to be their leader. The one that stood out had a large scar across his neck and in one hand he carried my suitcase and bag. In the other, he held a squirming Max.

I smiled at him, knowing exactly who they must be. "I would have scalped them myself," I said. "But I haven't a knife."


	16. A Trusting Trio

**A/N: First and foremost, NEVER let me promise you guys a deadline again. I am so sorry that this took over a month to get out but life happens and often gets in the way. Secondly, I am so ready to be done with this story so I am honestly working on getting to the end. **

Chapter 16 – A Trusting Trio

They had infiltrated the house after me to ensure all girls were gone and all Nazis were dead and scalped.

"How many?" asked the man with the scar.

"18 for her," said a younger soldier as he gestured towards me and my seat on the ground.

"We found three others cowering in the corners," said a shorter boy from behind him.

The man with the scar nodded and motioned for the guys to pack up so they could head out. He turned towards me and squatted so that we were at eye level with each other.

"Now normally I'd say you owe me 79 more scalps but you're a lady and we don't want you to be doin' these sorts of things." He stood and offered me his hand. "Can you stand?"

I stood slowly with a little help from him. The other soldiers circled around and watched as I waivered.

"Easy there." He placed his hands on my shoulders to steady me. "You've lost a lot of blood," he said pointing to my ear and shoulder.

I nodded. My comprehension of the English language was beginning to slip from my conscious, as was my comprehension of everything else.

"Hey, Donny!"

"Yea boss?"

"I think our little German might need some help getting back to camp," he said before he started to walk away with the others. The world began to fade in and out as I felt my feet lifted from the ground. There was little discussion on the way to their camp. They had settled for a night or two deep within those woods.

When the world stopped blinking and I was finally able to fully open my eyes and take in my surroundings, we were at that meager camp. The sun was setting through the trees and the chill in the air had deepened. I was sitting by the fire with a scratchy blanket draped over my shoulders.

My ear was dry and patched to my head with a small bandage. My arm and shoulder were wrapped tightly and secured in a makeshift sling so that I would not be tempted to use them.

"Are you feeling any better?" One of the men asked me in my native tongue.

I nodded and yawned.

He laughed and handed me a small loaf of bread. "I'm Wilhelm," he said extending his right hand.

"Ada."

"Yea, you're Landa's woman ain't ya?" came the voice of the American leader from behind me.

_Hans._ It seemed like forever since I left him or even thought about him. "I'm not his anything."

The man introduced himself as Lt. Aldo Raine and took a seat along with Wilhelm and me. The rest of the guys were figuring out who would stand guard first shift and who would sleep for now, each parting in their separate ways. A blonde, who I soon realized was the bane of Gestapo officers, Hugo Stiglitz, joined us at last before night finally fell.

Aldo was no doubt curious as to what my story was and how exactly I'd gotten wrapped up with a man like Hans. He tried to respect my wishes and avoid the topic at first but his curiosity got the better of him. Leaving the grotesque and more personal details out, I spent the next hour or two reciting to them everything that had happened with as much dignity intact as possible. Their questions were posed at the awkward moments which helped me push past them and onto the next event.

I didn't realize just how much had happened, how much I had changed and how much it all weighed down on me until everything was out in the open. It was a great relief and I could not imagine myself telling three finer people than those three men. I grew to trust them more quickly than anyone in my life.

"And now I'm here."

"That's a pretty excitin' story," said Aldo. "What's next?"

"That's a good question," I said. "I hadn't thought that far ahead. I guess some part of me didn't think I'd make it this far."

A friendly silence fell among us and though Hugo hadn't said much through the night, he was there listening. He was the first to bid us goodnight but before he left he said to me, "Wherever you want to go, we'll get you there safely." I looked to the other two men. Wilhelm nodded with a light smile and Aldo just fondled his chin.

"Thank you."

"We appreciate what you did today little lady but see the thing is we don't want you having to do things like that. You got anywhere to go? Any other family or friends?"

"No," I said. "But I had thought about going back to Regensburg. My only qualm is that Hans knew I loved it there. Should he come looking for me… well I'm not sure whether or not I'm ready to think about all of that."

Aldo nodded in understanding. "It's too dangerous for you to stick with us. I'll send Stiglitz or Wicki with ya when you make a decision."

"Thank you," I said as he stood and retreated towards his men who were standing guard.

Wilhelm and I stayed by the fire a little longer. We talked about our childhoods and life when it was simple. It helped distract me for the moment but soon he informed me that he was growing tired and that Aldo left me his tent for the night. He steered me towards the tent and bid me goodnight.

Upon entering, I saw little Max curled into a ball and fast asleep on one of Aldo's sweaters. The poor pup- my mind had been elsewhere the entire day but he seemed content to sleep someplace quiet. Sometime in the middle of the night he woke up and moved to snuggle closer to my chest.

My thoughts had strayed towards Hans several times that night. I wondered if I had done the right thing. Would I ever see him again? Did I really want to? What was best? Eventually all of my thoughts led to one thing: Regensburg. It seemed inevitable that I would end up there. I loved that city and its beautiful cathedral. However, if I did not wish to be found I would have to make sure to avoid certain things like mechanic shops and Nazis in general. Only one other thing was made certain that night. I was going to disguise myself. If he was looking, I didn't want to make it easy. I wanted to do something daring, something bold and something so that he wouldn't recognize me at first glance if he ever got one.

Before we officially set out that morning, I tracked down Aldo and shook him from his light slumber. His back was braced against a tree and he looked at me with puffy, sleep-deprived eyes.

"I just wanted to thank you again."

"For what?"

"For offering me your tent for the night. For all your hospitality. For listening. And not killing me," I said.

He laughed. "You leaving this early?" He looked up to the tree tops, judging the time.

"I didn't wish to impose or be a bigger burden."

"You ain't no burden," he said. "I suppose I should be thankin' you for your performance yesterday. You saved us a little grief, taking all them lives."

I shook my head and stared down at my hands. I could feel him staring me down, regarding my reaction. I had doubted my actions a few times the night before, as to whether I had done the right thing. I still couldn't believe I had gotten out alive.

"Is there anything else you need?" he asked. "I can wring Landa's neck for ya, if you'd like... should I ever get the fine chance of meetin' 'im."

"No," I said, looking up at him with a small smile. "No. In fact, I'd rather with you wouldn't kill him."

"Well I can't guarantee that what with him being the enemy and all."

"I understand," I said. My disappointment must've shown in my eyes because the next thing he did was stick his hand out for me to shake.

"I won't kill him," he said. "But I can't say the same for the rest of the boys."

"That's all right. I couldn't ask anything more," I said and took his offered hand.

Aldo stood and helped me to my feet. He guided me down the hill towards Wicki and Stiglitz.

"Take care of her, boys," he said and gave my back a final, gentle push away from his camp. I turned once more to remember his face but saw that he was well on his way to doing something else. A strange man, perhaps but a kind soul, indeed.

The journey to Regensburg was grueling. The food we had was meager and I still felt weak. Both Wilhelm and Hugo travelled with me. Aldo thought it was a necessary precaution and said that he didn't mind loaning me his men for a few days since they were going to lay low after my attack on the house in the woods.

When we first arrived, they took me to a doctor and advised me to let them do all the talking. I happily agreed and was fixed up with medications and new bandages promptly.

"Where will you go?" asked Hugo.

"I don't know," I said. "But I think it would be best if I didn't stick to one place for long."

A nod was his only response. He stepped back as I looked to Wilhelm.

"Take care of yourself," he said. "And little Max, here."

"I'll do my best."

"Here," he said, handing me his scalping knife.

"Won't you need this?"

"I'll just take Donny's," he said with a laugh. "Besides, it may just come in handy."

They both said their goodbyes to Max and I, then were on their way and seemingly out of my life just as quickly as they came. I hugged Max to my chest softly. First, we needed a place to stay. Second, it wouldn't hurt to come up with a new name. Third, I needed a physical disguise. I started making a list of all the things I wanted to accomplish. I'd need a new life story, a source of income- the list kept growing.

For now, I was glad to be back in Regensburg.

**I do have another fic in the works. It's a two-parter. As to whether or not Hans will be involved is uncertain. The first part is a drama/tragedy Harry Potter (which of course would make any crossover completely AU). The second part would be the crossover but it's between three choices. I'm leaning heavily towards one because it makes the most sense and time line wise would be closer and easier to blur lines. **

**Here are the three choices: 1) Harry Potter/Inglourious Basterds, 2) Harry Potter/ Hellboy II, 3) Harry Potter/Lie to Me. In each version the OC from the first part would have a slight romance (very slight from the looks of it thus far) with either Landa, Nuada or Lightman respectively. Personally, I'm leaning toward Hellboy.**


	17. Regensburg

**A/N: Hopefully just one more chapter after this… **

Chapter 17- Regensburg

I spent the length of almost four years in Regensburg. The winters were the worst but at least I had Max to help keep me warm. The first year was the biggest struggle. I had no trouble finding employment in a local shelter, helping the elderly but finding a place to stay with Max proved to be difficult. I often fed him my leftovers to save on money.

As for the disguise I had done so much thinking on, it turned out to be not much. I used Wicki's knife to chop chunks of my hair away. I was horrified at first. After all, I had felt that my long locks were something that helped define me as a woman. I remember crying a bit, thinking I looked like a boy and might very well be mistaken as one but I grew used to the look. Bleaching it platinum with peroxide helped but made it very brittle and so I was forced to keep in above the chin. I often ended up hiding under a hat.

I snuck into the Cathedral when I could to admire its beauty and be left to my thoughts. I did my best and took whatever precautions needed to ensure I wasn't being watched or followed. In the four years spent there, I had seen Hans a handful of times but he had never seen me. I wondered if he was even looking. Had I been forgotten?

Overall, my time was peaceful and passed with little worry until the morning after Goebbel's movie premiere in France. It was written all over the papers and shouted through the radio waves- there had been an attack on the theater as it housed all of the rotten eggs of this war. Besides Hitler and Goebbels, few names were listed and most bodies were charred beyond recognition. Dread filled my heart because I knew Hans would've surely been there. However, it seemed silly to me that he would not have seen the vulnerability of having all of them in one place. I held little hope that he saw the events of that night coming in enough time to get himself out of trouble.

I sat in the third row, alone in the Regensburg Cathedral during the twilight hours of the night. I rested my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. It was all over.

I did not know whether to be relieved or heart-broken. With the weight of the war lifted from my shoulders, I did not feel relieved. All day, I had felt drained by the sun's bright light and unwelcomed in the free streets of the city. It seemed that all I could do now was to wait for confirmation of his death.

Military wives were lucky. I had seen one in her moment of grief as a military postman delivered to her the message of her husband's death. It was heart-breaking to watch but at least she had closure. Not knowing was much worse.

I heard one of the cathedral's heavy doors creak open. The slightest sound at this time of night seemed louder than an airplane flying overhead during the day. I did not turn to see who had entered as I was sure people were thankful for the end of the war and came to God whenever they could. I heard no footsteps but there was a small protest from the bench behind me as someone took a seat. It was odd, I thought, that a stranger would seek solitude so close to another.

When he spoke the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end yet I couldn't help the small smile that grew on my lips. I knew that voice as distinctly as I knew the touch of Max's fir.

"Oh now I thought I'd find you here," he said.

"Hello, Aldo." I did not turn to greet him but my heart lifted all the same.

"Yea, it's me. I thought you might not remember."

"With an accent like that?" I teased. "Gosh no, you fit right in here."

Suddenly the dread came back without restraint. Why did he feel the need to come see me?

"I heard what happened at the theater," I said. "Was that you?"

"Yea, that was us." He paused and each of us waited for the other to speak first. "Our bargain is still intact though," he said, finally. "He ain't dead yet."

"Yet?"

"Well we all gotta die some day."

I shifted my head to the side, not fully turning as I spoke. "So Hans is all right then?"

"Yea, your Landa is fine."

"And you came all the way out here to tell me this?"

"Yup." Another silence grew and I could tell there was something more he wanted to say but apparently I wasn't asking the right questions. Honestly, I didn't know what to ask.

"You know," he started, "I've heard a lot of stories in my lifetime and a lot of crazy ones out there on the battlefield. For some reason yours stuck with me. I don't know if it's 'cause you're a woman with a war story or if it's 'cause when you were speaking about that Landa, you had the same look in your eyes that my Mrs. gives me right before she tells me she loves me. Either way, your story stuck." I heard him scratch the stubble along his chin. "That and I just didn't think it'd be fair to ship him off to Nantucket without you knowing."

"Nantucket? In America?"

"Per his request."

"I see. So you worked out a deal?"

"I guess you could say that," he said. "He's feathered himself a nice little nest out there."

"You don't seem too thrilled."

"Well, no but he did help end the war. He had ample time to stop us if he thought things could continue."

"Thank you, Aldo."

"So are you gonna come with or stay here?"

"Has he asked for me?"

"Well no, not exactly," he said.

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?"

"I mean he didn't braid my hair and gab about his love life or nothing but he might've let a little something slip. He just didn't realize I knew you and your story."

I finally turned towards the man sitting behind me and found a small smile gracing his lips but his eyes shied away from mine.

"Well, go on," I said. "Spit it out."

"You know, there's a sayin' where I come from that if you love something, you let it go and if it comes back to ya, it's yours. That's how you know for sure."

"So?"

"So?"

"You haven't answered my question, Aldo."

"The detective might've mentioned lettin' go or losing something some four years ago and that he reckons he lost it for good 'cause it never came back," he said.

"What do you care about the colonel's feelings?"

"I don't," he said. "I'm looking out for yours. So what'd'ya say? Can you forgive the man? After all, from a military stand point, I do feel he was lookin' out for ya… protectin' you and all by not telling you what he knew. So are you gonna come and at least say goodbye to him?"

"Are you sure you don't care? You sound an awful lot like you do," I said, still thinking of what the right choice was.

"There's just something strange about seeing a man like Landa broken."

"Broken?" I asked, standing. "What did you do to him?"

"Now, now," he started. "I honored our agreement. He ain't dead."

"I have to go get Max," I said, heading for the cathedral doors.

"Does that mean you're coming with?"

"Wait here," I said and walked back onto the busy streets of Regensburg.


	18. Unknown

**A/N: So I just re-read the first chapter to this fic. It was terrible! Makes me wonder why any of you stayed with me. I went back and made some minor adjustments.**

**Well here it is. I'm not fully satisfied but it's better than it was. I certainly hope it was worth the journey and that you all enjoy. **

**Should you be interested, I've already posted the first chapter of that two-parter I mentioned earlier. It's called 'The Arrangement.' Thank you all so much for your reviews and patience. It has been a treat.**

Chapter 18- Unknown

The extremes that Aldo had gone through to notify me about Hans were not fully realized until I was sitting in the car with Max in between us. He had driven out here alone and regarding the hour, who knows how long he had looked for me. It did not quite make sense as to why he went through so much trouble to tell me about Hans. After all we had only met once and briefly at that. With all that had happened between then and now, I found it hard to believe he remembered me.

"How are Hugo and Wilhelm?" I asked.

"You been living under a rock?" he asked.

"No?"

"Ah well I suppose I'm exposed to a lot more information you aren't but still I thought you would've heard."

"Heard what?"

"They died in an underground tavern one night not too long ago. There was a fight," he said. "I told them I was against fightin' in a basement."

"Like a bar fight?" I asked, wrinkling my brow. I did not know them well but if anyone of them were to get into a bar fight I figured it would be that burly Donny fellow.

"No, like a gun fight," he said. "They were meeting up with someone but a few Germans got in the way and they were exposed." Aldo shook his head. "Two of my best men gone in the blink of an eye."

"You still got that uniform?" he asked before we drove out of the Regensburg city limits.

"No," I said. "I threw it out long ago. Just extra baggage and goodness knows I don't need any more of that."

"Shame," he said. "Would've loved to see the look on his face."

I snorted in some form of humor and protest. Looking out of the window, I saw Regensburg fade away from vision in the misty twilight hours of the early morning.

"What've you been up to all these years?" he asked, no doubt trying to lighten the mood.

I shrugged. "Just trying to get by… trying to survive. I've been doing pretty well if I may say so but something is missing."

"Missing?"

"It's hard to explain. I mean I have Max, a place to stay, an honest income but I feel like I've been living someone else's life. Does that make sense?"

"Were you unhappy in Regensburg?" he asked. "You could have picked up and moved wherever you wanted."

"Things are easier said than done, Aldo. You know that."

"Yea, I know," he said. "So what was the problem?"

I shrugged again. "Just didn't feel like me. I didn't feel like I was in the right place at the right time or that I was where I was supposed to be in life. I didn't fit. I didn't feel like I had any sure purpose or future. It was like I was just there… existing."

Aldo grunted in response.

"So what about you?" I asked. "What have you been up to?"

He laughed. "Well let's just say that I picked up where you left off and kept on truckin'."

We made small talk throughout the 3 hour drive. Occasionally I would begin to nod off in the silence but the warm light of the rising sun would always persuade me to open my eyes. Aldo seemed to appreciate the silences more often than not. I'm certain he received little time for himself during the war.

We arrived at the American camp by route of a dirt road that was not frequented by vehicles. It was much larger than I had anticipated and I was impressed how they had remained hidden. Of course, I was not sure how long the camp had been there and now that things were over I was certain it did not matter so much if they were seen. Well within the woods, there were large green canvas tents set up in a large cluster. It almost had the look of a small town with soldiers constructing the roads by their footfalls upon the dirt as they ran orders and documents to and fro. Aldo drove around towards what I would have considered the back of the camp and parked the jeep behind a particularly large tent that was squeezed in between two large trees.

"We're here."

"Here?"

"The hospital," he said as he exited the car and ran around the front to open my door. I did not wait for him to round the front of the car. I jumped out just before he reached me with Max at my side.

"Hospital?"

"Yea. Your Hans is in there," he said as he led me to the entrance of the tent.

"Hospital?" I repeated. "Aldo!"

He went to grab my arm but I jerked away from his grasp. "Go on," he said, frowning. He pushed me forward a bit and gestured to take Max but I refused. I turned away from him and looked at the large slit created by the two unsecure folds of the canvas. Afraid of what state I would find Hans in on the other side, I hesitated for a moment. He was a live but what had Aldo called him last night? Broken? It was Max that charged in first, with a loud bark. I released his leash from my grasp and slowly followed.

The atmosphere inside the tent was cold. The little sunlight pouring through the green canvas gave the entire space a sick, unearthly feel. There were a several cots and a few chairs. In the center was one long table that I assumed was used for necessary surgeries or more severe treatments. The place looked sterile enough and smelled of rainwater and alcohol.

My eyes immediately searched for Max whose head was being patted by Hans, just to my right. He was so still and quiet sitting there next to the entrance that had Max not been with me, I would have passed him by. A small smiled formed as I watched Max's tail wag furiously. How odd that he seemed to remember Hans so well but my ghost of a smile quickly faded as I saw the bloodied bandage on his forehead. I looked towards Aldo through the slit in the tent as an annoyed huff escaped my lips. He took that as his cue to enter. I walked over towards Hans, refusing to look him in the eyes as I felt him looking at me.

"Aldo! You said you wouldn't hurt him."

"No, I said I wouldn't kill 'im," he said. "Our bargain is intact."

"Bargain?" asked Hans.

I looked at him for a moment from his scar to his eyes then to his lips and back again. "Aldo, may we have a moment?"

He nodded. "You gonna be all right?"

"Yes," I said. "I'll be fine." I waited and watched as Aldo turned and retreated back out into the morning before I turned back to Hans.

He said nothing and only stared at me, grimacing as I fingered his wound. I muttered a quick apology and reached over for the clean bandages and alcohol on a nearby table. I held a cotton swab to the top of the alcohol and turned the bottle upside down, making sure to soak the cotton.

"You should have told me, you know," I said while setting the bottle back down. "Instead of letting me find out like that."

I watched his fingers grasp the corner of his seat, turning white as I cleaned his wound. His eyes watered a little from the stinging but still he said nothing. He did not seem mad but instead I felt as though he was choosing his next words carefully.

I tossed the bloody swab aside and bandaged his forehead as tenderly as he had redressed my numerous injuries so long ago. I allowed the tip of my finger to find the edge of his bottom lip and slide along its plump form, recalling the once familiar feel of his soft lips. This time, however, they were bordered by day old stubble. It was something I had never seen on Hans nor imagined, yet somehow it suited him.

I caught his eyes and let my hand fall into my lap. I struggled to find the right words. There were so many things that I felt needed to be said but I did not know how. I looked away for a moment, trying to form a coherent sentence in my mind. It was not that he could still crawl under my skin with a single look. I had long ago grown past that weakness. Instead, my emotions had been so mixed on the thought of seeing him again that I had not given much thought as to what words would be exchanged.

"Growing up," I began, "as a young girl you're often told that true love is like magic. It's just like in fairy tales where it happens at first sight and lasts unconditionally… happily ever after." I looked up into his eyes and saw that he was listening intently. "It wasn't until I left those years ago that I finally realized what true love really is. True love hurts. It makes you infuriated and confused and frustrated and sad. Yet at the same time that you feel all those things you're still excited and curious and hopeful yet terrified all at once. True love makes you feel pain and pleasure."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm in love with you, Hans. More than I could have ever imagined. I didn't expect it and I wasn't looking for it but you found me." I paused for a moment, unable to read his expression then tried to lighten the serious mood. "That and I find the fact that you can speak multiple languages fluently, incredibly attractive."

He laughed lightly at this. "I always knew that would be good for something."

I was surprised at his jest and though I did not expect to hear him gush out any feelings in return to my speech, he seemed satisfied with what he had heard.

"I'm very proud of you," he said. He gave my hands a squeeze with one of his large palms but he did not let go as I had expected. "Where have you been?"

"Regensburg," I said, happily. I was rather thankful for the change of subject. "I saw you several times. It took all of my will power to remain hidden."

"I like this," he said, gesturing to the hair. "But it isn't you."

I nodded. "I think I'm ready to return to normal."

The conversation died almost as quickly as it had started. There were so many questions we both had and things left unsaid. It was a struggle to find a place to start and part of me wondered why I had come at all. Perhaps some things were better left unsaid and unknown. _Nantucket_.

As though he could read my thoughts, he asked the very question that had been on my mind.

"Why did you come here, Ada?"

I shook my head. I tried to pick at my fingernails in an attempt to avoid his gaze but he still held my hands firmly. "Because?"

"Because why?"

"Because I had hope," I said. "Hope that somehow things could go back to the way they once were."

"Is that what you want?"

"I guess," I said with a shrug. "What about you?"

"I'm leaving the country."

"Oh?"

"Don't act ignorant, Ada. I know you know," he said. "Nantucket Island, Massachusetts."

"America."

"Yes," he said. "America."

"That's so far away."

" Across an entire ocean," he said. "You'll get used to it."

"What do you mean?"

"It won't seem so different once we settle in," he said and a smile lit up his face as shock and confusion remained on mine.

I should have known that he would not ask me. Hans did not ask. When he wanted something, he took it. To him, there was no question that I was coming along. It was a game, as always, to watch me struggle with my words, wondering if this was the last time I would see him. _Butt-chinned asshole_.

"Why do you want me to come with you, Hans?"

"It isn't a question of wanting," he said. "It's a matter of needing. I need you there, Ada."

"Why do you need me there?" I asked, prodding further. He paused for a moment and I grew frustrated with his silence. "I need to hear you say it."

I stood from my seat next to him and stepped away. I shook my head in disbelief. He really was horrible. "I'm not going until you give a little, Hans. You need to make a decision."

I turned towards him as I heard him rise from his seat and realized that he had already made his decision. As I stood before him with my hands on my hips, he merely stared back with a smug look on his face. It was infuriating how much he knew me. Even though I felt I had grown and changed, he could still read me like a book. He knew I could not say 'no' and that I would not turn down the offer of starting fresh, someplace free and far away.

* * *

Life after the war seemed as normal as life could get. I held down a job teaching the German language to young American students and Hans enjoyed basking in the glory of the title he had somehow managed to give himself. _War hero_. He had been eager to tell me what he had done, proud of his never failing intellect. I think that seeing me so fascinated by his wit was an added bonus.

The island life was quiet and not too warm in the summers. He had done well; securing a fine home and helping me raise our family.

I did not see Aldo again until a week after Hans's funeral, some years later. I was fifty-five years of age. Our children, being grown, had all retreated back to their families and I could not believe my eyes when I saw the American Lieutenant standing on our front porch. I nearly fainted at the sound of his voice.

"Hey there, little lady," he said. He did not stay long but had only stopped by to pay his respects on my behalf. "'Cause you know I couldn't really care less about that Kraut Colonel," he said.

"He was Austrian, Aldo," I said, finding a bit of humor in his obstinacy.

"Same thing."

As I watched Aldo walk back to his car and back out of our driveway, I remember feeling lost and alone for the first time in a long time. More than thirty years had passed since that fateful day. This was the start of a new chapter in my life and for a moment I closed my eyes and saw the image of that country road. I realized then that that road is a road that we all must walk down in our lives, perhaps some more than others, when things are unfamiliar and unknown. However, this time around I knew that life would be waiting on the horizon.


	19. Dear Readers

Dear readers,

I am currently working on making this fic a novel. I have changed characters and made the story line more focused on revenge and growth instead of romance. I wanted to inform you of this so that should you see a book titled Ada with a lot of scenes you may recognize- don't panic. It's just me.

Thank you for your continued support.

Should this book ever get published, this story will be removed from the site.

-RejaNuha


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